A Little Introspection
by Vanilla Jester
Summary: Harry spends some time contemplating the events of his third year at Hogwarts while he recovers from his end-of-year adventure in the Hospital Wing. The conclusions he draws and the course of action he decides on will change the course of his life forever.
1. Chapter 1

**There was a low moan from the other end of the ward. Ron had woken up. They could see him sitting up, rubbing his head, looking around.**

 **"What – what happened?" he groaned. "Harry? Why are we in here? Where's Sirius? Where's Lupine? What's going on?**

 **Harry and Hermione looked at one another.**

 **"You explain," said Harry, helping himself to more chocolate.**

As she began animatedly recounting the last few hours to their friend, Harry found himself contemplating his best female friend.

Occasionally jumping in to Hermione's narrative to clarify or support something she'd said, he considered the way the time he'd spent with her that evening had affected him. It had reminded him of the month or so just after Christmas when they hadn't been speaking.

She had been so miserable, and now he came to look back on the time, he had been, too. These last few hours had been a sharp reminder of how much he enjoyed her company.

True, they had spent some of it running around with their lives in danger – something he'd never seemed to be able to avoid every year – but there had been a lot of time whilst they had just been waiting for their past selves to show up where they had just spent time comfortably and companionably, sometimes in silence, sometimes speaking of small things.

It had served to remind him of how much he had missed her when they hadn't been speaking. He wondered now why that had been. Yes, he had been angry with her for getting his new broom confiscated by McGonagall, but he had eventually realised she'd only done it because she was worried about it had been sent to harm him. True, it turned out it had been sent by Sirius, but with the information they had at the time her actions made sense.

Also true, he now realised, was that he would almost certainly have done the same if Ron or Hermione had received an expensive gift from an anonymous source to replace a treasured item which was recently lost, and were sure to use immediately. Especially if there was known to be someone out to get them or do them harm. That revelation made him feel especially guilty for the way he had behaved towards her now.

Why had he stayed angry at her for so long? And since when had he been so materialistic as to consider a possession more important than a friend? True, he hadn't had any of either while he'd been growing up with the Dursleys, but why had he really spent that time shunning her?

He could very easily have spoken to her and asked her why she'd done it, and smoothed things over with her.

He took a little time to examine why she would have gone behind his back in the first place. Clearly she was worried about his safety, and had even said as much. The only thing he could see that she'd really done wrong was not talk to him before speaking to their head of house. He doubted he'd have been anywhere near as angry if she'd done so.

So he considered it from her perspective. If she'd had a wanted criminal after her and had received a gift she would be absolutely certain of using at her first possible opportunity from an unknown sender, what would he think? And what would he do about it?

It was then the realisation hit him. It was the exact same thing he'd do in her place.

She was so concerned for him that she placed more importance on his safety than whether he might be angry with her. Or, putting it another way, it was more important to her that he be alive to be angry because she'd done something than dead because she could have done something and hadn't.

He remembered their first year when she'd thought that Snape (but really Voldemort through Quirrell) was jinxing his broom during his Quidditch match. Jinxing a top of the range broom and sending it to him to replace the one he'd lost would have been a very good way to get him killed.

With a sudden rush he remembered all the other times she'd helped him out, even against her own better judgement. She'd always gone with him when he'd done something brave – or possibly stupid, as some would have said – when she couldn't dissuade him. He now realised that she'd done so to do her best to keep him safe even when he was being stupid (no, brave, he reminded himself).

She'd been doing it since he saved her from that troll in first year. She'd always been there, helping him. Either with schoolwork or homework or during one of the adventures he always seemed to get himself into.

He'd also noticed that while she continued to encourage him to do well academically and proofread the essays he wrote she'd quickly given up on doing the same for their other friend, Ron. With him, she more or less dictated his homework to him, knowing that he could never be bothered putting much effort into their assigned work.

Harry remembered how he'd learnt to do the bare minimum to pass during junior and primary school while he'd lived full time with the Dursleys. If he ever did better than Dudley he got a beating, so he'd made sure he only just managed to pass all his work.

Of course, this didn't save him beatings for other things, and occasionally it didn't save him beatings because of doing better than Dudley academically anyway, as the pig in a wig was about as academically motivated as… well, Ron, come to think of it.

He'd just stayed in that habit once he got to Hogwarts because it was easier to do the bare minimum than try hard in his lessons. But apparently Hermione had seen through his efforts towards mediocrity and continually encouraged him to do as well as she believed he could.

With a rush he realised how much faith she must have in him. Not just to be able to achieve academically, but to keep her safe even when he was doing something stupid and she'd come along to make sure he didn't end up in the hospital wing. Or, more usually, didn't spend more time there than he otherwise would have.

Harry went back to wondering why he'd given Hermione such a hard time over his Firebolt. He clearly remembered noticing how upset she'd been when they weren't talking, but he'd never known quite what to say or do to comfort her. And Ron had always very quickly then distracted him with talk of Quidditch, a game of wizarding chess, or exploding snap, or gobstones.

Or to complain about how she'd cost them the Firebolt.

Wait a minute.

She'd cost him the Firebolt, and not really even done that. There was no them when it came to his Firebolt. Sure, he'd promised Ron he'd give him a go on it occasionally, but it wasn't like they shared it.

And then the realisation hit him. It had been Ron who'd kept him from doing or saying something, anything to Hermione to comfort her and reconcile. It had taken Hagrid yelling at them both and threatening to drag them to her to apologise that had finally done it.

And then, mere minutes later, there had been the incident with Scabbers going missing and apparently having been eaten by Crookshanks – who had been antagonistic towards the rat in the extreme since first encountering him - leaving the blood stains on Ron's sheets. Disappearing, actually, and framing someone innocent for his apparent murder. Much like Peter had done thirteen years before with his godfather Sirius.

So he had been forced to mediate between them. Again. It had been one of their worst fights, and he'd been stuck in the middle, trying to get them both to calm down and see one another's points of view.

This now struck him as at least a little odd as, in all the time he'd known Ron, he'd never seemed particularly attached to Scabbers, and had been as likely to call him fat and useless as anything else. More than likely to, in fact.

If Harry were to look at it cynically, he was almost tempted to say Ron had just used it as a way to carry on being angry at Hermione, transferring his indignation at the loss of the use of a broom that didn't even belong to him to the loss of a rat he demonstrably hadn't cared one iota about since he'd gotten it.

And he'd only conceded it had been a mistake to be upset when it had turned out that his pet rat had in fact been a middle aged man and a Death Eater to top it off.

Not for the first time, Harry wondered why Ron was friends with Hermione at all. It couldn't just be because he was, could it? And it almost seemed as if Ron did everything he could to drive Hermione away without crossing over the line from belligerent arguing – sometimes over the stupidest things, it seemed to Harry – into the territory of being and out-and-out bully.

Was that it, Harry wondered? Was he really not friends with Hermione, and in fact was trying to push her away?

That thought troubled him deeply.

It seemed that the only use Ron had for Hermione's company at all was the help she reluctantly gave him, or more often was badgered into giving him, with his schoolwork.

They had none of the same interests, with the only possible crossover being Quidditch, which Hermione only paid any attention to because Harry himself played it. She couldn't care less about the Chudley Cannons' most recent game, or their performance in the league this season.

Truth be told, neither could Harry. It was just that that was one of the few subjects Ron was ever willing to talk about, and while Harry was happy to talk about Quidditch in general it was really only because he was interested in game theory and tactics.

Unlike when Ron was talking about his passion – Quidditch – Hermione always seemed to light up when she was talking about her passion – or passions, really – which included many kinds of books, fiction and something called science fiction, travel, and learning about everything from what they were being taught in their lessons to what she could find out about other cultures and languages.

There was something about the way her eyes seemed to light up when she got to talk about the things she was passionate about that made Harry want to just sit and drink in everything that she said and revel in it. Much like just now, in fact, while she was telling Ron of the adventure they'd shared that evening.

But Ron always interrupted before she could really get started, usually with a loud "Boring!" before moving the subject back to the Cannons, or something equally inconsequential, like complaining about the latest homework. At such times Harry thought he could detect a hint of hurt behind her eyes, and he found himself wondering just how long he might sit there soaking up Hermione's joy while she talked.

Harry found himself watching her while she regaled Ron. She really seemed alive at times like this – when sharing something she knew with someone who didn't know it. His thoughts quieted for a little while like they usually did as he lost himself in her animated narrative of the flight on Buckbeak and Sirius' reaction to his last minute rescue.

He realised he was smiling, and he looked down quickly, his cheeks reddening.

What was that about?

If only he had someone he could talk to. An adult he could trust while he explored his feelings. He was aware that his experience when recognising and dealing with positive emotions was woefully lacking. He'd felt them on so few occasions during the first ten years of his life.

He couldn't talk to Sirius, at least not while he was still on the run. Letters just didn't cut it.

Dumbledore had often said his door was always open, but the headmaster always struck him as aloof and inaccessible, unapproachable behind his gargoyle or at the head table.

His faith in McGonagall had taken some real hits over the years, before it had even had a chance to get going, really. First year when she hadn't believed him, Hermione and Ron about someone going to steal the Philosopher's stone. Second year, when she hadn't believed him about the Basilisk, and this year when she had taken his broom.

True, she had returned it, good as new, but it did nothing to improve his trust in her. She, also, didn't really seem approachable, particularly on the rather delicate matters of growing and changing emotion. Harry wondered whether she had been as stern as a teenager as she was now. It was so difficult imagining her as anything other than the strict, formidable witch generations of Hogwarts students knew her as.

He wished he'd had someone to talk to during that month after Christmas. It was the first time since the Halloween in his first year, barring the summers, that they hadn't spent time together every day.

Even while Hermione had been petrified during their second year he'd gone to see her every day in the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey had told him that she wouldn't be able to hear him, and even though he mostly believed her, he'd still gone, because seeing her and talking to her even if she couldn't respond or realise he was there was better than not doing so.

Harry took the time to consider her parents. It occurred to him that he knew very little about them.

He'd only met them once, briefly, in Diagon Alley before his second year and hadn't really had time to form an opinion of them, but how bad could they be? After all, they had raised such a caring, kind, supportive daughter.

And he had met Ron's parents on more than one occasion, even staying with them for some time during the last two summers. Wouldn't it be a good idea to see if he could spend some time with Hermione's parents?

They were, after all, the parents of one of his best friends. It felt odd, now that he thought about it, that he knew one of his friend's parents so well, and yet could barely remember what the parents of his other friend looked like.

* * *

Hermione had finished telling Ron about their evening and the hospital wing had descended once more into silence several minutes ago.

With nothing left to say about what had happened, and Harry apparently unwilling to talk further, Ron settled down to go back to sleep.

Within a few minutes, the familiar snoring from the end of the infirmary that usually filled their dorm room in the Gryffindor tower told Harry that Ron had fallen asleep again.

Realising that this was an excellent opportunity to set in motion a plan that had only just come to him after his ruminations, Harry quietly broke the silence.

"Hey, Hermione... would it be ok if I spent some time with you this summer?" he began.

Hermione looked at him in surprise. Of all the things she'd thought Harry might want to talk to her about, this subject hadn't crossed her mind since she'd resigned herself to the thought that he would far rather spend time with the Weasleys in the chaos and bustle of the Burrow than with her parents in the quiet of their home after the first two years of him knowing her but never asking.

"Oh Harry, I'm sure they wouldn't mind!" Hermione replied, trying to control her excitement at the thought of spending time with her best friend.

"I was half way through a letter to them yesterday, and had intended to finish it today when, well… all of today happened" she trailed off rather sheepishly.

"If you want, I can ask them when I finish the letter."

The surprises didn't stop for her, though, when instead of looking relieved Harry instead became rather sheepish too.

"And do you think… um, do you reckon your parents would mind…" Harry paused since, now he was asking, he really wasn't sure how to put it "I just, I have some stuff I'm trying to figure out, and I don't know who to talk to. I don't know who else I could speak to. Do you think they'd mind if I… I don't know. Talked to them? Sorry if that seems weird."

He trailed off, not looking at her.

"I mean, they've done such a good job raising you, clearly they know what they're doing" his cheeks were burning now with embarrassment and he kept his eyes fixed on his knees.

There was a quiet rustling followed by quick footsteps, and just as he look up he suddenly found his vision full of bushy brown hair, and he had his arms filled by his exuberant female friend who seemed to be bursting with excitement.

"Oh Harry, I would love to see you this summer! I get so lonely at home just sending owls to you and Ron," she said quietly, pulling away to sit on his bed.

"And I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind talking to you. I don't think it's weird. They always give me great advice, and they're always asking about you -" at that, Hermione put a hand over her mouth and looked at him, reddening rapidly. "I didn't mean to say that…" she said, looking down at her hands.

Harry frowned. This was certainly a surprise. Hermione's parents wanted to know more about him? "Do they ask about Ron, too?" he wondered out loud.

"Um… no. Not so much. But…" Hermione's blush was deepening and she was biting her lower lip, which Harry found adorable "but that's probably because I don't really talk about him as much."

Harry wasn't sure why this surprised him, especially when combined with what he'd been considering earlier about her and Ron. His brows creased as he thought about this new information.

"You… you're not mad are you, Harry?" Hermione asked nervously.

He looked up, surprised. "Why would I be mad, Hermione?"

He took a chance and reached out to place his hand on her arm, something she often did to try and reassure him.

"Why would I be upset that you talk about me more than Ron? I mean, you argue with him so much, and then there was that thing with Scabbers…" here he broke off and really scowled "I mean, I can understand. I guess I've kind of realised that maybe you're better friends with me than you are with him" he finished, lamely.

She smiled and reached up to place her hand over his, and looked relieved. She brought his hand down, and took hold of his other one.

"So… would it be ok if I sent them letter? If you'd like you could write one as well. I'm sure they'd like to hear from you." She looked up at him hopefully.

"Oh, um. Sure. I'll do it tomorrow and we can send them together with Hedwig, if you like?"

Hermione smiled at him and nodded, then returned to her bed. For the first time he was surprised to find he had butterflies in his stomach.

Whether that was from her smile or the thought of spending time with her this summer, he wasn't sure.

Perhaps it was both.


	2. Chapter 2

The following day came, and with it their release from Madam Pomfrey's care.

 **When Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the hospital wing at noon, it was to find an almost deserted castle. The sweltering heat and the end of the exams meant that everyone was taking full advantage of another Hogsmeade visit. Neither Ron nor Hermione felt like going, however.**

While Ron went off to try and catch as much lunch as he could, Harry and Hermione headed for the Gryffindor common room.

As Hermione went up to her dorm to retrieve her letter to her parents, Harry ascended the stairs to his and got out his writing supplies. He thought about what to write. 

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Granger,_ He began.

 _Greetings. I am Harry Potter. Hermione tells me you probably know a lot about me already, but the truth is I don't know very much about you. I've spent time over the last two summers with our other friend, Ron Weasley, and I feel like that's left things a little unbalanced._

 _Would it be OK if I spent some time with you and Hermione at your home this year? I promise to always be on my very best behaviour, and I am very happy to help cook, clean, keep your garden tidy, do laundry, and any other chores you might usually have for Hermione during the summer._

 _I will need to let my relatives know, if you're willing to host me, when to expect me and when not to._

 _Also, I am very happy to pay for my upkeep so that my being a guest in your home is certain not to be a burden to you._

 _Yours Sincerely,_

 _Harry J Potter_

Harry hoped that was good enough. Harry had no idea whether Hermione had chores over the summer, but judging from his own experience and his time at the Burrow, he assumed she would do.

He folded up the parchment and placed it in an envelope, then went to find Hermione.

He found her crouched awkwardly over one of the low coffee tables arranged with the sofas in the common room, as all the tables were taken by fifth and seventh years feverishly studying for their end of year exams.

He sat down next to her just as she finished writing, and looked up at him.

Her bright smile of greeting brought the butterflies back, but he didn't have time to consider them before she started speaking.

"Oh, Harry! I was just finishing up. I was about to come looking for you" she said as she carefully folded her letter and placed it in the envelope she had waiting.

"I'm done too, though I'm surprised you're in here. I was expecting to need to wait for you to come down from your dorm" Harry replied, frowning slightly in confusion.

They both got up and started walking out of the common room, nodding to a pair of second years they recognised as being friends of Ginny's.

"Oh, I think Lavender or Parvati must have spilled some hair styling potion or perfume up there; it stinks, and the smell was giving me a headache" she said irritably "but oh well. I was nearly done writing my letter anyway."

"Ok, well we can go send them together. I'm sure Hedwig will be glad to get out and about" he said, smiling playfully. "You know…" he added thoughtfully "I'm not entirely sure what she does all year. I can't be a terribly interesting master."

"I think you're plenty interesting, Harry" Hermione said, with a slight blush.

"Well thank you," Harry said, playfully bumping her shoulder with his as they walked "but it's not like I keep you around just to take my messages to people all over the country. Also, I'm not your master."

She poked her tongue out at him.

"Actually…" Harry began, looking anywhere but at Hermione and already feeling his cheeks begin to heat up "I don't think I've ever said why. I like having you around, that is. I… I think I've been taking you for granted, and I'm sorry."

He risked a glance at her. Hermione was blushing prettily, and looked embarrassed and a little confused, but Harry also thought he detected a little gratitude in the look she shot at him.

"Harry, you don't have to… I mean, I'm happy just to be your friend" she began, but he cut her off.

"No Hermione, I think I do need to" he said, gaining a little confidence from the look she had given him "I want to apologise for how I treated you just after Christmas. I shouldn't have been so angry with you, especially over an object. I think the only reason I was angry was because I never got anything while I lived with the Dursleys, so having something new and expensive was exciting." Here, he frowned as he remembered the Christmases he'd suffered through at Privet Drive, and quickly moved on.

"I also never had any friends while I lived there, and honestly your friendship is more valuable to me, more valuable than any possession, really. And I didn't know what to say. Whenever I saw you, that is. I could tell how upset you were, when we weren't speaking, but… I." He broke off again.

"I guess. I'm not very good at emotional stuff" his cheeks were heating up again, and he daren't risk looking at her, it would only make his halting speech worse "and I just… I didn't know what to say, or what I could do. I hated seeing you so sad, though."

"Harry…" Hermione began.

"No, I need to get this out. Please. Even if it is all broken up and messy. I really appreciate everything that you do for me, Hermione. All the help you give me, or try and give me, anyway," Harry said with a wry smile "and I know for a fact that I'd be dead several times over if not for you figuring things out. First year, with the potions when we went after the Stone. Second year when you worked out it was a basilisk. This year you help Sirius, too, not just me, when we used your Timeturner to help him make what should have been an impossible escape."

Harry ran his hands through his hair, leaving it sticking up at odd angles and looking even messier than usual.

"And you're always pushing me to do better in my classes, despite my habit of doing the bare minimum. It's a hard one to break" he paused, a little shamefaced. She didn't know the real reason for it.

"But you do it anyway. It's like you see a better me. Thank you. Thank you for it all. Thank you for being my friend, despite everything. I don't think being my friend can be easy, sometimes."

He stopped walking, feeling a little drained from his confessions. He realised that Hermione had stopped too, a few steps back from him. He looked back at her and was surprised to see her eyes brimming with tears.

Suddenly, she catapulted herself at him, and before he could think he was enveloped in one of Hermione's trademark hugs; firm and strong but not smothering like Mrs Weasley's, Hermione's hugs were comforting and kind, and communicated affection wordlessly. No matter how he felt, a hug from Hermione never failed to make him feel better.

"Oh Harry, you don't need to thank me for being your friend. I should be thanking you! Before first year I never had any friends, and then you come along and save me from that troll, and then you're my friend on top of it all! Despite my nagging and bookishness, and my being a know-it-all. And I push you because I know you're a great wizard, Harry. I told you so in our first year, and it's still true now. I've never heard of one wizard seeing off a hundred Dementors with a single Patronus charm, that's the kind of thing I mean!"

It all came out in a rush and Harry wasn't sure how she was able to do it without running out of puff.

He started mumbling denials and trying to break away, but Hermione held him tightly and wouldn't let him escape.

Hermione pulled back a little so she could look him in the eyes, but wouldn't let go of him.

"I mean it, Harry. The troll, facing Voldemort over the Stone, killing a basilisk – which I'm sure you've been understating the size of, and honestly even one thirty feet long is completely unheard of – and this year learning a charm that's beyond most adult witches and wizards."

She searched his face and stroked his upper arms with her thumbs, seemingly trying to will him to believe her. Will him to listen, and let her praise in.

"And not only magicaly, Harry. You're so kind and thoughtful and selfless. You haven't missed one of my birthdays since you found out when it was, and you always get me the most wonderful presents. For Christmas, too. And even if you didn't know what to do when, after I, after Christmas this year, after I was so stupid and went behind your back. You still noticed, and it was you who came and apologised first."

She paused and looked down at his chest, moving one arm there to fidget with his shirt.

"I know you came to see me while I was petrified, too" she continued in a small voice "I know you were there every opportunity you got. I asked Madam Pomfrey. She did say Ron came a few times, but she said you needed to be reminded to go eat, and shooed out just before curfew."

Her arm snaked around his waist as she laid her head on his chest. After a few moments she continued, quieter still, almost not speaking at all. She seemed to be talking to herself more than to him.

"Before Halloween first year, I almost left. I was on the verge of writing to my parents to ask them to come and get me. I was so lonely. I thought when I got here I'd finally have a place I fit in. When I found out I was a witch it seemed to explain why I was so different, why I never had any friends. But when I got here it was worse. Nobody would talk to me, and the harder I tried the worse it got. After what Ron said I spent the whole day crying in that bathroom. I had already decided, and I'd even started composing the letter in my head."

She was quiet for a while, and Harry thought she was done when she continued, her voice quavering slightly.

"And then there was the troll. I thought… 'This is it. I'd never get to achieve anything, after all. Never make any friends. Never see my parents again.' I thought that was the end. And then there was you. So brave and stupid and small, and so wonderful. Jumping on the troll's back to distract it. You saved me." She lapsed into silence.

Harry was sure, when she said that, that she meant more than the act of keeping the troll from her.

He felt a sudden rush of emotion for the girl in his arms. He had saved her life, and her future. He had given her something she had never had, and things which in that moment she had thought she'd lost forever.

No wonder she was so protective, so supportive, so forgiving of his shortcomings and so encouraging. So… Hermione.

Not only that, he was her first friend. He was to her what Ron was to him.

Except.

Wait. No, that wasn't right.

As he stood in that empty corridor, leading from the main parts of the castle to the owlery, Harry had another epiphany.

Ron wasn't his first friend. Hagrid was. He had introduced him to the world of magic, had been the first person to wish him a Happy Birthday, to give him his first birthday cake and his first present.

Ron wasn't even his second friend; that was Hedwig. She had kept him company those long weeks of August while he waited to escape the Dursleys. He had talked to her whenever he'd had a chance in between his chores and his reading of the new books he'd bought for classes, and it was during that time that he'd started to suspect that she'd truly been able to understand him.

With that realisation, Harry felt another wave of guilt. He had another person to apologise to. He'd never appreciated Hagrid as much as he deserved, not gone to see him as often as he could or should have.

Harry resolved to do so at his earliest opportunity.

As they stood there, Harry absently stroking Hermione's back in small circles, Harry's stomach broke the silence with a long, loud growl.

Hermione let out a small giggle, and the sound stunned him slightly. He didn't think he could ever remember hearing her giggle before. It was a gorgeous, musical sound.

"It sounds like your tummy is trying to tell us something, Mister Potter" she said as she smiled up at him, breaking their embrace. She took his hand and led him towards the owlery once more.

The move surprised Harry as he couldn't think of a time when she'd done it before, but he found that he liked the feeling of her small hand in his far too much to make anything of it, or remove his hand.

"Yeah, I guess so. We did have an exceptionally long day yesterday, and only chocolate for dinner" Harry said with a rueful smile.

"Thank you by the way, Hermione. I didn't know a lot of that stuff, and I promise we can talk about all of that more when we spend time together this summer. But yeah, let's get these letters sent off and see if we can still catch some lunch."

The rest of the walk to the owlery was made in silence, and Harry didn't stop holding Hermione's hand even while they gave their letters to Hedwig, and instructed her to take them to Hermione's parents then wait for a reply.

They exchanged small, shy smiles as the silently agreed to make a game of working together one-handed to attach the post to Hedwig's leg, and the beautiful owl gave them an amused if long suffering look while they fumbled with the string.

When they finally made it back to the Great Hall they found the house tables almost deserted. Only a few stragglers like themselves, or die-hard food enthusiasts like Ron, occupied the long benches.

They sat down a little ways from Ron, agreeing with a briefly exchanged glance that they'd rather not suffer eating near his messy food disposal impression.

As they both motioned to begin collecting their choice of luncheon fare and found their joined hands caught, they realised that their hands were still clasped together.

Looking a little sheepishly at one another they blushed.

"I guess I'll need this" Harry began, loosing her hand and brandishing his own "and you'll need yours."

"Indeed." Hermione conceded, refusing to be embarrassed. She smiled a cheeky, knowing smile that Harry didn't think he'd ever seen on her before. "I thank you for its return. You are most kind."

Harry decided to play along, and gently teased back. With feigned, exaggerated magnanimity, he replied.

"Indubitably, my dear Miss Granger, and if you would be so kind as to pass me that flagon of splendid orange juice, I would be most indebted to you."

Her smile growing as she passed him the jug, Hermione looked as if she was on the verge of giggling again, but schooled her features into a look of feigned pomposity.

"And if you, my good Mister Potter, could please convey to me that plate of truly spiffing sandwiches, I would be equally indebted to you."

Harry gave her such a look of affected hauteur that his lips were pursed ridiculously and he almost seemed to have his eyes closed, that she could hold the giggles no longer.

The short time they had left that morning for lunch was spent alternating in such a way, their laughter interspersing their deliberately frilly and ostentatious language, and before they had really had an opportunity to sate their hunger the bell rang to signify the end of the meal, and the food vanished from the tables.

After lunch they met up with Ron, and going on the resolution he'd made earlier, Harry suggested they go and see Hagrid.

When they reached his cabin on the grounds they knocked at the door, and were greeted by **a very bleary-eyed Hagrid,** who mopped **his sweaty face with one of his tablecloth-sized handkerchiefs.** He beamed **down at them** and motioned them inside.

* * *

Harry realised later, as he sat in the common room that evening, that after Hagrid's revelation that Professor Lupin was packing, and the subsequent conversations he'd had with both the erstwhile professor and the Headmaster, he had completely forgotten to ask the former Marauder if he could begin an owled correspondence with him.

It was with some irritation that he had realised that his question of finding someone to talk to about his feelings had been driven completely from his mind. Not that that should have surprised him; he'd never had an adult to open up to before. Indeed, any talk of feelings was considered a weakness in the Dursley household, and Harry shuddered to think what the reaction might have been from his aunt or uncle if he'd tried.

No, all things considered, perhaps it was better that he'd never been encouraged to by them.

He had also wanted to talk some more with the professor about his parents, but with Hedwig gone with his and Hermione's letters to her parents he'd have to wait until she returned before he could owl Professor Lupin. During their lessons when he had been taught the Patronus charm he had been able to coax a few tidbits about them here and there from him, but professor Lupin always seemed reticent to talk about them.

Harry supposed that had more to do with the pain associated with their loss than a desire to keep information about his parents a secret, but it had still mildly frustrating to him to have a source of information on them available during term but who was unwilling to share.

His thoughts turned to Hermione's parents, and considerations of what they might be like, it occurred to him that maybe he could confide in one of them. Hermione had told him she'd spoken of him to them often, and clearly they had done an excellent job of raising a kind, thoughtful daughter.

Perhaps one of them would be willing to listen to him and offer advice? He'd have to see when he eventually met them. If he met them.

Despite Hermione's assurances, Harry still couldn't quite believe they'd be fine with him visiting and possibly staying with them.

How would they react to a boy sleeping in the same house as their daughter? A boy who constantly seemed to get her into danger? A boy who, and Harry hesitated here even in the privacy of his own mind, was beginning to admit to himself that there may be more than feelings of friendship, at least on his end.

He supposed, now he took the time to consider it, that his worries were possibly based on residual feelings left over from his time being completely unwelcome at Privet Drive. The realisation was not especially helpful, however, as thinking and knowing it was a completely different thing from putting it into practice, and did nothing to allay his doubts.

He'd just have to wait and see. And hope.


	3. Chapter 3

Emma Granger was startled from her usual morning routine by a sharp rapping on her kitchen window. Looking up, she was surprised to see a beautiful, regal looking snowy owl bearing what appeared to be at least one envelope and waiting to be let in.

Crossing from the counter where she'd been preparing the morning's first cups of coffee for herself and her husband, she bemusedly let the message bearer in.

Hedwig hopped onto the island in the center of the modernly furnished kitchen and waited patiently for her host to retrieve her letters, snapping her beak a few times as she blinked regally and looked around.

Emma followed her feathery guest and spoke to it without really thinking. "Oh look at you! You're gorgeous! I wonder who you belong to? Hermione did mention one of her friends had a snowy owl… "

Remembering the purpose for the presence of the owl, she untied the letters, tentatively reaching out to stroke the bird as she examined the front of both envelopes. She recognised the handwriting and method of address on one as being from her daughter. The fact that it was made out to 'Mum and Dad' was all the confirmation she needed.

The other was addressed much more formally in spidery writing that she didn't recognise, but which she assumed belonged to one or other of her daughter's two best friends.

Her reticence in petting this particular owl was borne from her experience that some of the school owls her daughter usually sent her correspondence with were a little temperamental and haughty, and didn't like to be touched. Others seemed to relish the attention, and it seemed that this one fell into the latter category.

"I'm afraid I don't have any food for you at the moment, but if you're willing to stick around until I make a start on breakfast you're welcome to some bacon." Emma said, as she opened her daughter's letter and began to read.

Hedwig clacked her beak and hopped around a little in anticipation.

"Who are you talking to, dear?" came her husband, Dan Granger's voice as he came down the hallway and entered the kitchen.

"Oh, I see we have some post. Are you talking to the delivery owls again?" he asked, prodding his wife playfully in the shoulder.

"Yes dear," his wife said absently, still reading the letter she'd opened "but I'm sure this one understands exactly what I'm saying."

"Sure… " her husband began, sounding a little sarcastic, but he was interrupted by Hedwig hooting indignantly.

He looked down at their feathered visitor in surprise, and she clicked her beak and blinked at him, as if to reprimand him for his presumption.

"See?" his wife teased back as she looked up from the letter she was holding "Hermione says this girl's name is Hedwig, and belongs to her friend Harry. And she's such a clever girl, aren't you? Aren't you?" Here she switched her attention from her husband to Hedwig and started stroking her again.

Hedwig blinked luxuriously under the attention and gave Dan what he thought was a slightly smug look.

Dan grunted, refusing to admit that he was beginning to feel inclined to believe his wife.

Walking over to their fridge he began retrieving the items he'd need to continue preparing their breakfast.

"So what does Hermione say, sweetheart?"

"Oh, she's looking forward to seeing us again. She's dreading hearing how she's done in her exams, and she's got another adventure to tell us about. Oh, and she's asking if this Harry can come and visit during the summer."

Emma broke off reading again and picked up the other letter.

"Hedwig also brought this letter, too. I have a feeling it's from Harry." She said, holding it out for her husband to take.

"Oh, first name terms now, are we?" he responded flippantly.

"Hush. Either read the letter or get on with breakfast" she chided him.

Suitably chastised, Dan took the letter she proffered, still grumbling good naturedly. He was surprised by the politeness and diffidence that was evident in his daughter's friend's letter. The promise of help with chores and cooking was unexpected and very welcome, though the length of his list seemed to suggest rather more than Dan would be comfortable asking of a guest, even a visiting male friend of his daughter's.

However, it was the offer to pay for his presence in their home that caused a little instinct in the back of his mind to ping. Frowning, Dan filed that away to examine later.

Placing the short missive on the island, Dan returned to the task of preparing breakfast for the morning, and he talked to his wife over his shoulder as he worked.

"This Harry character seems very polite, and he says he's willing to help out around the house if we allow him to stay. He's even offering to pay his upkeep. What do you think? We have been talking about taking in a lodger while Hermione's away at school." Dan said half-jokingly.

His wife fixed him with a very stern look over her much longer letter, and Hedwig hooted indignantly from between them.

"Daniel Granger, don't you dare suggest we charge that young man rent when he comes to stay!"

"When not if, dear?" Dan attempted to counter, rather weakly.

"I think it would be lovely to have a friend of Hermione's to stay with us this summer, and she says in her letter that he wants to spend time with us since he's spent time with their other best friend's family the last two summers and wants to get to know us, too." Emma then decided to really turn the screws on her husband, as she hadn't found anything remotely funny about the rather poor joke her husband had tried to make.

"You know that this would be the first time Hermione's ever had a friend over to stay… " she said quietly, returning to the letter in her hands.

Instantly, any resolve Dan may have had to object to this course evaporated. He knew as well as his wife how lonely their daughter had been before she went to Hogwarts. How lonely she had been before making friends with Harry and Ron, whom he almost felt he had gotten to know with the amount that his daughter spoke of them in her letters and when she was at home, Harry in particular.

"I'm sorry, dear. It's just that, well… he's a boy, and a father has certain responsibilities… " he trailed off, his heart not really in it.

"Yes, he's a boy, but Hermione's never given us any indication that there's _anything_ … more, between them." She said sharply. "Though not for lack of wishing on her part, I fear" she continued quietly.

"And it's not as if we don't trust them together in a castle that's hundreds of miles away for ten months of the year."

Dan left off preparing their breakfast to walk around to his wife and wrap his arms around her from behind.

"Ok. When do we want him here, then? Should we have him while your mother's here? He did say he'd need to let his relatives know when to expect him. It actually sounded like a weather or not, not a when… and he spent half the letter talking about chores. Which one was he, again? The redhead?"

"No dear, that's the Weasley boy, Ron" she said absently "Harry's the little waif, clothes much too big for him, messy black hair and glasses. He'll probably want to spend at least a little time with his relatives to begin with, and we were thinking about going back to Montpellier for the second half of July again… Yes. I think having him here at the same time we have mum would be good."

She gave her husband an arch look, and continued "Besides, you know how sharp she is. With her here there won't be any of your ' _anything_ ' happening, will there?"

Dan had the good grace to look a little shamefaced.

"That sounds fine." Dan gave his wife a peck on the cheek and returned to their breakfast.

"Oh, I promised Hedwig some bacon, could you put in a rasher for her, too?"

"Yes dear."

* * *

Harry was pacing anxiously in the Gryffindor common room, getting himself more and more worked up over how little time he had to hear from Hermione's parents in before the following day brought the end of term, and his journey back to the Dursleys.

He was staying in the house common room because part of him wanted to stay away from the looks and the rumours flying about the school of how he had been involved in yet another adventure, and what part he had played in it. Another part of him just wanted to avoid seeing that greasy git Snape as much as possible for what he'd done to get Professor Lupin removed from the school.

The retreating DADA professor had told him yesterday that Snape had let his lycanthropy slip accidentally at breakfast, but Harry knew it was done deliberately out of spite. He had realised as he lay in bed last night that Remus Lupin had been another link to his parents that was now as good as gone from his life.

He had also realised he'd been very stupid in forgetting that while yes, Hedwig was currently away from the castle, he did have access to all the regular school owls to make use of to ask the professor if he could keep up their association by post.

This was how Hermione found him, worrying himself into a knot as he agitatedly wore a rut into the carpet.

"Calm down, Harry. We'll hear from them in time. They always reply quickly, and they know as well as you do how close the end of term is. They're coming to pick me up at the station, after all."

She had sat down on one of the couches along the route Harry had been treading to watch him, and as he passed on another circuit she caught his arm and pulled him down next to her. She twined her hand in his and rubbed circles on the back with her thumb in an effort to calm him down, but he simply started to vibrate one of his legs up and down in place of his pacing.

"I know, it's just… what if I don't hear in time? What if I can't tell the Dursleys? What if they don't want me to stay? And when should I send my letter to professor Lupin? He'll be travelling at the moment, and sending him an owl while he's moving seems stupid… " he trailed off, half biting a thumbnail and half fiddling with his front teeth with it.

"Why do you want to send a message to professor Lupin? I realise you went to talk to him yesterday and maybe you thought of some other things to ask, but he isn't our professor anymore."

"Oh, um, it's nothing. I mean, he knew my parents and I wanted to talk to him about them. You know, get to hear a bit more about them and Sirius from him."

Hermione frowned at his odd evasion, and was about to inquire further on it when Ron slouched in through the portrait hole.

"Hey guys, what's up?" he asked, plompfing down on a sofa opposite them.

Harry and Hermione sprung apart as though scolded, blushing guiltily. They hadn't talked about their new hand-holding, and neither had any idea how Ron would react to it. They didn't especially want to find out, either.

"Oh, nothing. I mean, I'm just waiting to hear back from Hermione's parents. I asked them if I could stay with them for a bit this summer" Harry said.

Ron frowned at this. "Don't you want to come to the Burrow?" He sounded a little affronted.

Harry realised where this might go and quickly hedged to try and head him off.

"The Burrow's great, Ron, but I spent the last two summers there, and I've never even met Hermione's parents. She's my best friend, too. I just felt like I want to get to know her family since I already know yours. You know. It seemed fair."

Ron grouched at this, but at least he didn't seem to be heading towards an eruption any more.

"I guess, mate, but surely we're more interesting that a bunch of Muggles? You can't go flying or read about the Cannons while you're there, can you? And I'll bet they don't cook like mum does. What can you do there? Watch that fellitision thing, or listen to Hermione badger you about books?" he said with a smug smile that seemed to proclaim a foregone conclusion.

The words themselves were innocuous enough, except that jab about Hermione and her love of books, but the way that Ron had said them made staying with Hermione's parents sound like sitting through a full day of periods with Binns in History of Magic.

Harry scowled, and felt Hermione tense up beside him. He reached out and took her hand again to forestall her making a swift exit. She looked at him askance, her distress subtle but easy for him to pick out. After a moment of silent conversation, Harry turned back to their redheaded friend.

"Ron, I don't appreciate the way you're talking about Hermione's parents, or Muggles." Harry said, with a little steel in his voice. "Whether you would find it boring to stay there or not, I wouldn't. And how would you feel if I made out that staying at the Burrow was as bad as you're making staying with Hermione to be?"

Ron opened and shut his mouth, giving his best goldfish impression while he built up a good angry flush and head of steam, but Harry cut him off before he erupted.

"I do like staying at the Burrow, Ron. I love it. But I want to spend time with Hermione's family, too. I want more balance between my two best friends. I don't even really remember what her parents look like, after all. What kind of a friend knows so little about their friend's home life?"

Harry could see that Ron had seemed to accept that, and was chewing it over.

Hermione leant over to Harry and whispered a tiny thank you, then she disentangled her hand from his and announced that she was going to go and pack in preparation for tomorrow.

Harry decided that he agreed, and said he would do the same.

* * *

As she packed, Hermione considered Harry's last words before she left. What kind of friend was she, indeed?

She realised that while she knew what his aunt and uncle looked like, she didn't know anything about them. She had thought once, last year when they came to pick him up from the station, that she had heard his uncle roar 'BOY' at him when he thought they were out of earshot.

She frowned, and worried her lower lip with a nibble.

All her mental notes assembled themselves for her attention regarding the way he dressed, his scrawny size, the way he always looked so much more downtrodden when he got back to Hogwarts in September and how it took him a month or so every year to seem to shake the shadow of his summer off and really become the Harry she knew, the way he had only recently stopped tensing up before relaxing whenever she hugged him. Even his teeth looked as though they'd never been seen by a dentist, and she should know.

She resolved to ask her parents about her concerns when she saw them. Surely they would know whether she was just being silly or not.

She also decided to get her mother alone and ask her about the way she felt whenever she held Harry's hand, and the way he'd been making her feel lately. The blushing was certainly new, and she didn't know what it meant for the future of their friendship.


	4. Chapter 4

As Harry lay in bed that night his mind wandered back over all the adventures he'd experienced while at Hogwarts. He and his friends – though still most often him - always seemed to end up spending a lot of time in the Hospital Wing afterwards, no matter how careful they may have been.

Harry wondered how one might go about learning healing spells. They'd certainly come in handy, especially if what Hermione said about him being an unusually powerful wizard were true. If he could learn to put as much power into healing magic as the Patronus Charm, well, maybe he and his friends may not need to see Madam Pomfrey nearly as often.

He got out of bed and retrieved some writing supplies to make a note to try looking healing magic up. After a particularly, grating loud snore from Ron he thought about what he and Hermione would say if they could see him now. He stifled a small smile. Hermione would be proud he was making plans to look up things that weren't directly related to homework or exams, and Ron would surely be appalled that Hermione was rubbing off on him.

Ron snored again, and was joined by Neville in chorus. Harry frowned. Throwing pillows at the pair of them never helped, as he had learned from long experience. Then Ron's words to Hermione when she was panicking about how to create fire while they were after the Stone echoed back to him.

He slapped a hand to his forehead. _'Was he a wizard or not?'_ indeed.

He reached for his wand and cast a couple of silencing charms on Ron and Neville's bed curtains.

Taking a breath, Harry ensconced himself in his bedding again and savoured the silence. How sweet the absence of his dorm mates' sonorous cacophony was.

Getting back to his list, Harry finished his note to look for some books on healing spells the next time he was in Flourish and Blotts.

As he rubbed the end of his quill over his chin, deep in thought, Harry considered what else he could look for while he was in the book shop, or even just Diagon Alley. Now that he knew he could get there using the Knight Bus, he really didn't need to spend all that much time with the Dursleys if he didn't want to, even if the trip would take some getting used to.

Was there such a thing as wizarding body armour? How much would it be, and where could he find some? Having some armour he could access quickly would be a great help the next time he found himself on a dangerous adventure.

Could he buy some Quidditch armour to enchant once he got back to school?

Could he perhaps ask the goblins of Gringotts if he could commission a suit of armour?

He made a note of these questions.

Were there spells you could cast on yourself that acted like a more permanent shielding charm? What about wards? How do they work, and can you ward yourself?

He added those thoughts to what was now becoming a list.

Harry vaguely remembered Hermione saying something about Ancient Runes and Arithmancy being the basis for ward and spell creation. He supposed that perhaps asking her about them would be a good start. He had always been good at maths while in primary school, and had enjoyed both that and history despite his efforts to remain mediocre across the board in an effort not to outdo Dudley academically.

Harry wished History of Magic was taught better at Hogwarts. He was sure there was more to it than goblin rebellions, which seemed to be all that Binns was interested in talking about. He certainly knew he wasn't the only one who wished the lesson was more interesting.

Maybe he could look for some books on wizarding history at the same time he went to Flourish and Blotts for his other inquiries. Maybe he could read them in History class instead of using the period to catch up on sleep, and he might even learn something. It wasn't like he could do much worse in the subject after all.

It would stop Hermione giving him dirty looks at the end of class, at least.

He made a note to try and find some history books that looked interesting.

Harry considered his two best friends again, and what they'd say.

He realised that Ron's most likely reaction of abject horror didn't bother him nearly as much as he thought it might. So what if he was thinking and making lists and planning research? It seemed to him that Ron was perfectly happy to take advantage of Hermione's bookish and studious nature, and all her meticulous notes when it came to doing homework or revising for exams, but would turn around and mock her for it as soon as he was done.

He shook his head sadly at the double standard his friend so often displayed.

Hermione, he was sure, would be thrilled. She'd probably start colour coding his list according to subject, and then make a schedule to pick up research materials and adding occasions to review their progress.

Harry then realised that Hermione probably would involve herself and make it a shared project almost without thinking, and to his surprise he found that he wouldn't mind.

In fact, asking for her help on all of these things would be an excellent idea, and could even be pretty fun. It would give them something better to do than their summer homework whilst he was staying with her, at least.

Looking back up at his notes on magical defences reminded him that Defence was a subject by itself, and despite the abysmal teaching standards he'd experienced during his first two years his time being taught by professor Lupin had showed him there was a lot more to it.

Knowing his luck, and the way things seemed to run in the wizarding world, he'd probably be back to awful teachers again next year so he made a note to look for more advanced Defence books while he was on his shopping trip. He could at least self-study, and Hermione would be sure to be a help, even if Ron wasn't.

Harry leaned back and mentally reviewed his adventures. He was always so tired after each one, and remembered how his body would protest whenever he started running around a lot, or trying to fight.

Ever since he'd started at Hogwarts Dudley and his gang had seemed to give up on their sport of Harry Hunting, which while a more than welcome change had meant that Harry was no longer running regularly.

At the very least, starting to run again would be a help. While he did exercise with his Quidditch team, it was really more to warm up and stretch than a full workout.

Additionally, sitting on a broom was not the most strenuous activity, despite the all-over body toning his particular brand of flying resulted in. Yes, he was trim, but he had no endurance, no muscle to speak of, and very little body strength.

He made a note to investigate physical exercise and training. He remembered overhearing adverts on the TV for exercise books and tapes endorsed by celebrities, and then his thoughts went further. There were Olympic athletes and sports of all kinds in the muggle world, and that was without mentioning boxing and all the martial arts he had heard some of the kids in his primary school talking about.

Yes, looking for material in the muggle world on physical exercise and training would be a far, far better bet than trying to find anything of use on the subject in the wizarding world, where people seemed to be more than happy to just waive a wand or call for an elf to do something for them.

He added a further note to his list.

Sitting back again, Harry continued to think.

He sighed deeply. Given what Dumbledore had said earlier about the debt that Pettigrew owed him, no matter how unwanted the connection was, it was clearly something significant. He added an entry to his list to try and find out what it meant.

Thinking of the night that the rat escaped caused Harry to frown, and then he remembered something from earlier on. He, Hermione and Ron had disarmed professor Snape.

True, together they had blasted him back into the wall and knocked him unconscious, but losing your wand to the Expelliarmus spell was a disastrously quick way to lose a fight and it left you completely at the mercy of whoever you were facing.

Did people keep backup wands? It seemed like a fairly sensible precaution to disarming, but then in Harry's experience sensible and the wizarding world didn't often go hand in hand.

Despite how creepy he remembered Mr Ollivander being, he made a note to go and see him to inquire about purchasing a second wand. His expertise was difficult to argue with, whatever his personal shortcomings, and in their one meeting he had been much more forthcoming with information and less cryptic than Dumbledore ever was.

Thinking of Dumbledore, Harry was reminded of what little he had said about why he must always return to the Dursleys every summer. He began to wonder why he let the headmaster of his school have so much sway over where he spent his summers. Surely that wasn't his responsibility, was it?

As he thought of the headmaster, something else occurred to Harry. He was sure he didn't show as much interest in the affairs of any of the other students. At least he hoped he didn't. It seemed a little odd.

He made a note to investigate his other options regarding what he could do with his summers. He was sure plans had already been made with the Dursleys for this year, but it wasn't like he couldn't afford to stay elsewhere if he wanted to. He couldn't remember the exact exchange rates for Galleons to Pounds Gringotts provided, but he could remember the ration value was pretty good.

Surely he had enough to support him for the four more summers he'd have before he graduated and could legally start earning more. He could probably stay wherever he wanted.

Harry leant back again, stroking his chin with his quill, his mind blank.

He remained almost completely still for what must have been about half an hour as his mind wandered.

He was about to conclude his list was complete and put his writing materials and notes away when his mind strayed back to the duel he'd had with Malfoy during that disastrous duelling club in second year.

If Malfoy had been at all competent, Harry would have been in real trouble. He could have been picked off by Draco at any point while he was surprised by and then dealing with the snake the idiot blonde had conjured.

Harry wondered what other kinds of creatures it was possible to conjure. It couldn't be that hard, considering that Draco had managed to conjure that huge snake considering he was _at best_ a mediocre wizard.

He tried to think about what he'd do if faced with several creatures running at him on top of dealing with a witch or wizard. He knew that vanishing spells, the spell Snape had used on the snake, weren't taught until fifth year. Ideally he'd use one of those, preferably from behind a shield charm, and then return his attention to the person who'd done the conjuring.

So since he couldn't vanish things yet, what else could he do? Maybe banishing charms, blasting hexes, or… alter the ground? That would slow down anything that wasn't airborne, at least. If he made a briar patch, vine thicket, or swamp it'd really hinder anything trying to attack him, animal or magic user.

He made a note to research the spells he'd need to use to alter terrain.

So, if you flipped it around, how would you deal with that if an opponent did it? Conjuring several different kinds of animals would do it. Perhaps a snake, a bird, and something large? Like a viper, a boar, and an eagle? That would be pretty difficult to deal with. A variety of animals would make it more difficult to concentrate, too, especially if they attacked and moved in different ways.

All the things he'd thought of to deal with conjured animals short of vanishing were completely useless against birds.

He added another note to look up spells that would cover a wide area or target multiple things at once. That seemed to be the best he would be able to do for now.

He wondered whether any animal conjured by a witch or wizard would follow the orders of the person that conjured them, or if the snake that Draco conjured only attack him because he was in front of it when it was conjured.

He made a final note to investigate different types of summing spells. If he could conjure even two or three creatures for an opponent to deal with, he'd stand a much better chance of surviving trouble, or even coming out on top.

Harry snorted and shook his head. To think; he'd actually learnt something from a lesson lead by that fraud Flopheart, even if indirectly and over a year later.

Satisfied that he had thought of as much as he could, he finally put his things away and settled down to sleep.

* * *

Term ended the following morning without much fanfare, and though Harry had decided the previous night to start running regularly, he didn't think beginning on his last day at Hogwarts made much sense.

When he got down to the common room after grabbing a shower and getting dressed he found Hermione was waiting for him. She occasionally went down to breakfast on her own, but that was usually only if he took a long time getting ready.

"Hi Harry!" she greeted him, smiling brightly.

"Hey Hermione. Ready to get some breakfast? Have you heard from your parents yet?" Harry asked.

She gave him a long suffering look and rolled her eyes.

"No, Harry. My parents are not in the habit of owling me in the middle of the night. I expect I'll get a reply at breakfast. No Ronald?" she asked, looking around him at the stairway to the boy's dorms.

"No, he wasn't up yet. His alarm went off a few minutes ago, but he obviously… didn't… urr… woops. I'll be right back."

Harry had just remembered the silencing charms he'd placed on Ron and Neville's beds. He'd completely forgotten about them, and obviously not been able to make them one-way.

He ran back up to the dorm, pulling out his wand as he went.

When he got into the room he found Neville just moving about, clearly having just gotten up. That made things easier.

With a quick wave at Ron's bedhangings he cancelled the charm and drew a deep breath.

Through long experience he had learnt this was the only way to wake Ron in the mornings short of dropping him in the Black Lake.

"BACON!" Harry yelled.

Ron woke with a start and almost fell out of bed.

"Wha-humm? Oh, thanks mate." He said, blearily rubbing his eyes. "Need to get breakfast so I can come back up here and pack. See you down there, yeah?"

Harry nodded and rejoined Hermione in the common room.

She looked askance at him and took his hand as they made their way through the portrait hole.

"I realised last night, after three years, that I'm a wizard." Harry said, deciding to tease her a little bit.

She poked him in the arm and gave him an amused look.

"Really, Mister Potter? You surprise me."

"It's true, I was as surprised as you are."

They walked in silence for a bit before Hermione realises she'd need to prod him some more, which she duly did.

"Well, I suppose that in addition to realising I'm a wizard, it also occurred to me that as such I don't need to put up with Ron's incredible snoring every night. So I put a silencing charm around his bed."

Hermione nodded.

"You realised that you'd forgotten to remove it. It was kind of you to go back and wake him up, though I suppose now we'll have to suffer through his open-mouthed chewing" she said with a grimace.

Harry only nodded.

They were halfway to the Great Hall when Harry remembered the other thing he'd done the previous night, and his intention to share the resulting list with Hermione.

"Oh, hey, I made a list of things last night that I want to look up. Would you be willing to help me with it over the summer?" He asked.

Hermione looked up at him, surprise clearly showing through her bright smile.

"You have some summer projects? And you'd like my help?"

"Well yes, that was why I asked. I also need your advice."

Hermione poked her tongue out at him.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes, yes, I realise it's unusual of me. But I realises last night that, knowing my luck, I'm probably going to keep getting into dangerous adventures for the next four years if my first three are anything to go by. I decided that I'd like to be a bit more prepared. And if it turns out that it wasn't needed? And the next four years are completely normal and peaceful? Well, better safe than sorry, I guess."

Hermione nodded.

"I would say that that sounds a little cynical of you, Harry, but even I can't argue with all the things that have happened to you so far. Ok, so what are we going to be working on?" She finished, looking up at him in anticipation.

Harry smiled to himself, happy that his prediction of her automatically including herself in his project proved to be correct. _Hey_ , he thought, _if I'm this good at predicting the future, maybe I'm not so bad at Divination after all._

"Well, I don't have the list on me right now, but I can make a copy of it for you when I get back up to my dorm. Even without the list, though, I remember that I would like to know a bit about Arithmancy and Ancient Runes."

"Really Harry?" Hermione asked excitedly "You've never been very interested in them before. What's changed?"

"Well, I remembered some of the things you told us about them over the last year, and I realised some of the things I want to know and some of my ideas would probably be best answered by those two subjects. One of the things I'm curious about are wards and protective spells, and maybe altering or inventing some if I can't find any that match what I want," he began.

They continued to talk as they went the rest of the way down, and had been sitting in the Great Hall eating with Hermione going over the basics of the two subjects for him for a quarter of an hour before Ron showed up.

His hair was still wet and his tie was on sideways as he sat down, clearly in a rush to get eating.

Harry shook his head in amusement. Breakfast was surely Ron's favourite meal of the day. Or was that lunch, or dinner? He supposed it depended on what time of day it was.

Before they could get back into their conversation, Harry and Hermione were interrupted by the arrival of the owl post.

Hedwig was easy to pick out in the avian rush, her bright white plumage standing out in stark contrast to the grey-browns of the rest of the owls.

She swooped down in front of Hermione and held her leg out.

"See, I told you so, Harry," Hermione said as she reached out and untied the letter.

Harry just bumped her shoulder with his.

Hedwig hopped along the table to sit in front of Harry and gave him an expectant look, her eyes switching between him at his bacon.

Laughing, Harry reached out to stroke her before he picked up a piece and fed it to her.

Satisfied, she nipped his finger affectionately and took off.

Harry turned to Hermione and watched her expectantly.

"If you keep staring at me like that, Mister Potter, I won't tell you what they said until we're on the train," she teased him.

Harry pouted and turned back to his breakfast.

Ron looked over at them in surprise.

"They replied quickly" he said "I would have thought they'd just wait to see you later when we get off the train."

"They wanted to let me know what they had decided because they want to meet Harry and his family to talk to them" she said absently, still reading the letter.

"NO!" Harry yelped.

He paled, the bottom seemed to drop out of his stomach and his head felt like it was spinning sickeningly. Hermione, meet the Dursleys? He didn't think he could stand it if they called her a freak, too. And in front of her parents? That couldn't be allowed to happen. His chest tightened further at the thought.

Harry started breathing in short, sharp breaths. He was almost panicking. He couldn't let that happen.

Hermione and Ron were looking at him in concern.

Hermione spoke first "Harry, you don't need to be scared of my parents. They're really nice, and I'm sure they'll love you" she said, trying to reassure him.

She reached to touch his arm, but Harry could only shake his head as he got up and stumbled away from the table.

He began heading for the entrance hall and the outside, Hermione and Ron trailing after him. He needed some air.

"Harry, what's wrong? I knew you were nervous about meeting my parents, but you need to calm down. It'll be fine" she called after him as he made it through the door.

Harry could only shake his head again as he leant against the wall, his imagination spinning ever worse scenarios for Hermione's interactions with his relatives.

Hermione tried to touch his arm again, but he flinched away and continued unsteadily towards the main entrance.

"No, it's not, it isn't, it's… " Harry started flushing angrily, frustrated that he couldn't get his words out, couldn't make himself understood.

He sat down on one of the huge, shallow steps that lead up to the castle's main door, relishing the way the cool stone felt to his touch, hunched in on himself.

Hermione and Ron hovered, clearly at a loss.

Harry fought to get his breathing back under control, hating how stupid and useless he felt. He could face a hundred Dementors, a thousand year old basilisk, even Voldemort possessing a teacher and trying to kill him, but he couldn't hold it together when he thought about his stupid relatives and them calling his best friend a freak.

He started to shake again, this time from the adrenaline wearing off, and he wrapped his arms around himself as he shivered. All his old insecurities seemed to have come back full force.

Hermione and Ron sat down a little ways from him, deep concern showing on their faces.

Finally, Harry felt like he could manage to talk again.

"It's not me meeting your parents, Hermione," he began, quietly "I'm not scared to meet them."

When more didn't seem to be forthcoming, Hermione gently asked "Then what is it, Harry?"

"It's nothing. Not a big deal. I just don't think you and your parents' meeting uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia is a good idea."

"Why not, Harry?" she prodded again, quietly.

"They're… they're not nice people. They don't like magic at all. I just don't want them shouting at you or your family is all," Harry mumbled.

"I'm sure it won't be that bad, Harry, and my parents can deal with people shouting at them. They own their own business, after all" Hermione said gently.

"Yeah, come on mate, Dursley's a great lump but he can't be that much trouble, can he?" Ron said.

Harry smiled weakly. Vernon was unlikely to cause a scene in public, after all. It wouldn't be _normal_.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said quietly.

"Come on; let's have a look at this list you've written" Hermione said, getting up and offering a hand to help Harry up, too.

He smiled his appreciation for her trying to change the subject as he took her hand, which she returned.

"Oh, what list is this?" Ron asked.

"Harry made a list of things he wants to look up over the summer, and I've said I'll help," Hermione answered as they started walking back inside, her hand still in Harry's from when she helped him up.

Ron frowned.

"What, like a research project?" He asked.

"Yeah, I guess. I just had some ideas for things I want to find out. I asked Hermione about some of them because I thought it'd be something fun to do while I'm staying with her," Harry replied.

"Great, now you're letting the bookworm rub off on you. Come on mate, surely you don't want to spend the summer doing _extra_ homework, do you?" Ron grouched.

Hermione bristled, but before she could say anything Harry pulled them up short and turned to him.

"You know Ron; I really don't know what you have against Hermione. You seem plenty happy to take advantage of the fact that she likes to study and makes lots of notes when it's convenient for you, but then once you're done using her for homework or revision you drop her and go back to insulting her. Would you even be her friend if not for me?"

Ron just stood and gaped at him.

Hermione pulled herself closer to him by their joined hands and said quietly "Harry, you don't have to…"

"No Hermione, I think I do. I hate it when you two argue and snipe at one another, and usually I just try and keep the peace when you do, but not this time. I have stuff that I want to find out. Stuff that I think is important. I keep getting myself into danger every year, or rather it finds me every year, and this time I want to be prepared. That means I need your help, and on top of that I want to spend time with you this summer. Ron's made it perfectly clear what he thinks of that idea, and what he thinks of you, so Ron you can just stay out of my way until I'm done."

Ron's face flushed red at this, and he seemed to remember how to speak again.

"Oh, I see. I see how it is. The two of you go off on one adventure without me and that's it. No need for poor old Ron anymore! Who needs that twerp? Well go ahead, I don't need two bookworms nagging me and telling me to do this and do that, don't chew with your mouth open, don't leave your room in such a mess, wash your hair, brush your teeth!" Ron yelled. "I really don't get it! She nags you as much as me, mate. More, even. I don't know how you put up with her!"

Hermione shrunk back, but Harry kept ahold of her hand to stop her running off.

"Hermione keeps on at me because, for some reason, she sees potential in me. She sees what I could be, and tries to help me get there. I really don't understand why or how, but she sees a better me, and I've decided I want to be that me. I don't want to let her down, because she's never, never let me down. If that means becoming a bookworm then fine. If that means spending all my time in the library behind a book, then fine! If that means working hard, then _fine_. At least I know I'll have company doing it, and great grades at the end of it. So if you're just going to whine and moan and complain while I do what needs to be done, maybe I don't need you around after all."

Harry wasn't yelling, but there was a power and a certainty in his voice that had been mounting as he'd been speaking.

Ron seemed to have shrunk back on himself during Harry's tirade, and when he was finished he turned and stomped off back to breakfast, muttering about completely missing the point.

Harry took a deep breath and turned back to Hermione. She was looking very small and staring at the floor.

Harry sighed and slipped an arm around her, then started them walking back to the common room.

* * *

As they walked, Harry and Hermione talked about their friend.

"I think I may have been a little too hard on him," Harry said. "I think I should apologise. I really don't understand why he would be so against my wanting to spend time with you this summer, though."

"You didn't have to do that for me back there, you know. But thank you. And thank you for sticking up for me yesterday in the common room. I know you don't like it when we argue." Hermione said quietly.

"I guess I just got tired of him always putting you down. I really hate it when he makes you cry. I guess I've just had enough. No matter if I want to keep the peace, he shouldn't do that to you."

Harry stopped and took both her hands in his. They were on a fifth floor landing, near a tapestry showing some wizards hunting some kind of magical creature. Apart from the subjects of the tapestry chasing eachother around the fabric, there was no one around.

"Why don't you stick up for yourself more?" Harry asked gently.

Hermione looked down, playing with their hands between them instead of answering.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, even more quietly.

She gave a small sniffle and responded without looking up. "I guess… when I was at school, before I came here I mean, whenever people would be mean to me, call me a bookworm, a plain-Jane, a bucktooth beaver… I would just ignore them until they went away. I never had anyone to stick up for me besides the teachers, and they weren't around all the time. So I would just stay quiet. Until it got to be too much, at least. Then I would run away and find somewhere else to calm down."

Harry took her by the shoulders and tried to look her in the face, then decided that a hug would be better.

As he wrapped his arms around her, and felt hers snake around his waist, he said "You know, you don't have to stay quiet or run away any more. I'm sorry I haven't done such a good job of sticking up for you so far, but I promise I'll do a better job from now on. No one gets to treat my friends like that, not even my other friends. I hate seeing you cry more than I like Ron's silly jokes and playing wizard's chess – or losing at wizard's chess, actually – so if that's what I have to trade off to not see you cry then I think that's worth it."

Hermione tightened her hold on him briefly, then pulled back to look at his face at last.

"I know you don't like it when we argue, and that not picking sides is a part of that, but… thank you."

Harry just nodded then took her hand again to continue walking.

"You know…" he began, letting a silly, lopsided grin play across his lips "if you can manage to make some silly jokes now and again, and beat me at chess, I don't think I will be missing out on anything after all."

Hermione gave a brittle little laugh and bumped his shoulder with hers.

They walked in silence for a bit before something that had been bothering Harry worked its way out.

"I wish it were easier to talk to Ron about stuff. It seems whenever I begin to mention something he does that bothers me he gets really defensive and tries to change the subject. And then, if I keep going, he gets in a strop and goes off to sulk," he said, almost to himself.

"And then, when he comes back, he never says anything but he acts like I was the one who needed to apologise."

"Must be that Weasley temper he always talks about," Hermione said.

Harry was about to agree when he frowned. Something about that had suddenly struck him as odd.

"When was the last time you saw Percy or the Twins get angry like Ron does? Or angry at all, for that matter," he wondered aloud. "I mean, they must _get_ angry, but I don't remember the last time I saw it. I can't say anything for his two older brothers, either, but Mister Weasley certainly doesn't react like Ron does, and I've barely exchanged two sentences with Ginny so I can't say anything there."

Hermione nodded and pulled them slightly closer by their joined hands.

"As far as I can tell, it's just Ron and Missus Weasley that are the angry ones, and while it's been quite a long time since I've done any maths, two of nine is not a majority. Four of nine still isn't, if we assume that the two elder Weasley boys have the same hair trigger temper."

Back down on the fifth floor landing, a little way along from the tapestry in an alcove that held a suit of armour, a young girl with wide eyes and messy blonde hair who had been looking for her belongings sighed wistfully. _It must be so nice having friends_ , she thought.


	5. Chapter 5

As Harry and with Hermione made their way down to the carriages that would take them to the train platform in Hogsmeade he wondered how long Ron would sulk for. He hoped it wouldn't be the whole train ride, but he found the idea that it might be didn't especially bother him.

He decided that if he didn't see him the whole way back to London he would at least go and find him to apologise for being perhaps a little harsh, but he found he was actually looking forward to the prospect of possibly getting to talk with Hermione about his ideas uninterrupted.

After Harry had retrieved his list and copied it for her, they had both gone back up to their dorm rooms to finish packing, and once they re-joined one another neither had felt the need to say anything. He knew that Hermione wouldn't have had time to look over his list, and would probably spend some time on the Express doing so before she started contributing her own additions.

They ended up in sharing a carriage with Neville and a girl from Ravenclaw they didn't recognise. She had dirty blonde hair that hung down to her waist and wide, staring pale blue eyes. She kept her wand behind her ear and spent the whole carriage ride reading an odd looking magazine upside down.

They didn't see Ron once between him storming off back to breakfast and getting to the platform, but they assumed that the Express wouldn't leave without a student, so they didn't worry about him. Neville did mention seeing him pack frantically as he left the dorm, though.

* * *

Once they had found a compartment and settled in, exchanging mildly confused looks and shrugs as the blonde girl followed them and sat silently in the corner, Hermione pulled out Harry's list and some note-taking equipment of her own.

Neville also joined them, but got out a book on Herbology and tried to look as unobtrusive as he could, as though half expecting them to tell him to leave at any moment. Harry decided to give him an encouraging smile, but couldn't catch his eye.

Harry decided to capitalise on the time Hermione would be spending going over his list, so he asked her if he could borrow her book on Ancient Runes. It was the primer book for the course, after all, since third year was the year students began the course.

Harry recognised a lot of what was in the introduction and first chapter from things that Hermione had said that morning. She really was very good at explaining a subject, Harry mused.

With Hermione's excellent introduction, Harry found himself half way through the third chapter before Hermione was done marking down her own notes and ideas on his admittedly very messy and wandering list.

"I can see why you thought some of this would be helped by Arithmancy and Ancient Runes," Hermione began, startling Neville slightly, "you definitely had the right idea. We'd need to talk about what exactly you wanted to do, though. I've rearranged your list by subject, and – hear me out before you say anything – but the only thing I can see that you might want to include is potions."

Harry had smiled when his prediction that she would arrange his list by subject proved correct, but he frowned at her mention of potions. He decided to hear her out, and nodded his assent to her.

"Good, I'm glad you're willing to listen," Hermione said, returning his smile. "I realise potions can hardly be your favourite subject given how professor Snape treats you, but my thoughts run like this; you're worried that you'll come across more situations next year that prove to be… unusually dangerous. There are a couple of potions which you could keep a couple of bottles brewed ready of. First, there's a wit sharpening potion. It takes ten to fifteen minutes to become effective, but after that it lasts for two to three hours. It's not taught until sixth year, but brewing advanced potions hasn't stopped us before."

Here she glanced at Neville and the blond girl, both of whom appeared to be studiously ignoring their conversation.

Harry nodded. He hadn't heard of this potion before, though that was hardly surprising, and was interested despite himself.

"I came across it in second year while I was looking for another potion," she said, giving Harry a significant look. "As I said, it's not normally taught until sixth year, and it along with several others are specifically precautioned against in the enchantments on the anti-cheating quills we use in our end-of-year exams. I've also… well, I never felt a need to learn to brew it for myself, but I think it could really help you. Some others that I thought you could make to keep available include ones that temporarily increase strength, agility and reaction speed, and I would never have suggested them to you ordinarily as they are accounted for and countered by the specially enchanted robes you and all Quidditch teams wear for your games."

Harry was surprised. He hadn't known this, and said so.

"Honestly Harry, when will you get around to reading Hogwarts: A History? It details the introduction of charmed anti-cheating Quidditch gear as well as a hundred other things about the castle that I appear to be the only student who knows," Hermione said in a slight huff.

Harry smiled. "Well add reading it to my list as well, then. It's obviously full of useful things to know."

Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"I hadn't actually expected you to listen to me," she said with a slight, approving smile.

"Well you're almost always right about these things, and the whole point of the list is learning and preparing things that should help me. I'm just sorry it's taken me this long to listen to you."

She reached over and gave his hand a small squeeze, then continued.

"I've also noticed that professor Snape… he doesn't… well, to be completely honest… he tends to choose the least interesting, least useful, and where possible the most complicated potions appropriate for a given year group he can."

Harry could see what speaking disapprovingly about a teacher, even if it was one as objectionable as Snape, was costing her, so he reached over and returned her hand squeeze in support. He couldn't resist teasing her a little too, though.

"Is this really Hermione Granger beside me? Are you well? You must be ill, to speak poorly of a teacher," he said, putting his free hand on her forehead as though checking if she had a fever.

"Prat!" She slapped his upper arm but when she continued she had a small smile twitching the corners of her mouth upwards.

"So given all that, I'm really not surprised that, on top of him picking on you and breathing down your neck whenever he can, it's not a subject that captures your interest. But if you look around while you're in Flourish and Blotts at other potions books you might find some that give you a different view of the subject. If you find some, it might interest you to learn that since potion brewing doesn't involve any magic, you can safely do it at home without receiving warnings from the Ministry for underage magic."

Harry looked at her in surprise.

"I know you like to study, Hermione, and you probably do all our summer homework as soon as you get home, but how could you possibly know that?" Harry asked in slight wonder.

Hermione looked down and fiddled a little with the edge of her page of notes before she answered.

"Madame Pomfrey tells all the girls at the end of their first year that there are a couple of potions that all witches over a certain age find it useful to have a monthly supply of, and which my mother was very happy to learn existed, so when I got home the first year I started needing it I brewed up a year's supply for the both of us, and have done so ever since. From there I started experimenting with other potions, and my parents were happy to pay for the ingredients to a selection of different types that they thought sounded useful."

Harry was very confused by the first part of what she said as he didn't understand at all, but could see how uncomfortable the subject was making his best friend, so he decided not to voice his questions. This seemed like the correct decision as Hermione flashed him a grateful smile and let go of the tension that had been building in her shoulders.

"Your ideas about conjuring animals are very good, and I hadn't even thought of them," she flashed him a proud smile as she continued with the list "what made you think of that?"

Harry related his thoughts about it, and his memories from the duelling club, and Hermione nodded in understanding.

"That's a very clever conclusion to come to Harry. I really hope you continue to think like this."

Harry felt a warm little glow ignite in his chest swell up at that, and without really thinking he shuffled a little closer to her along their bench.

"I don't know about conjuring vines and briars and swamps, but there should be a couple of good books in Flourish and Blotts on conjuring animals of different types, and about how that works."

Neville unexpectedly spoke up at this point.

"There are a couple of types of seeds you can get that violently explode into growth," he said, looking very embarrassed at interrupting. "They're usually considered weeds because they're such a pest to deal with, but I'd never considered their use in a fight before. They're only usable outside, though. They can't grow anywhere there isn't earth." He finished speaking all in a rush, then looked back down at his book quickly.

"Wow, thanks for that Nev, that's really useful to know." Harry said, finally able to catch his dorm-mates' eye and give him an encouraging smile.

"Re-really? Th-thanks…" Neville stammered.

"Yeah. Do you know where I can get some of those seeds? I realise I couldn't use them everywhere, but just having some in case I need them would be great," Harry said.

"Oh, we-well. As I said. They're considered weeds, so I doubt you could get the seeds from an Apothecary or botanist. But if you're interested I can collect some seeds from my gardens and greenhouses this summer," Neville said, visibly gaining confidence as he spoke.

"Thanks Nev, that'd be really helpful."

"No problem, Harry!" Neville went back to his book, looking very pleased with himself.

"Yes, thanks Neville. I had no idea, either," Hermione said "now, as to creating plant cover indoors, I don't know anything about conjuring plants per se, but since they're living things like animals it should be possible to create a plant conjuration spell with some advanced Arithmancy. It'd take a lot of time to work it out, though, I'm afraid. The creation of new spells is incredibly complex."

Harry nodded. That seemed reasonable.

The blonde girl in the corner of the compartment chose this moment to speak up.

"My Mummy used to create spells. I don't think she was ever working on plant conjuration, mostly on detection spells for Crumple-Horned Snorcaks and Blibbering Humdingers, but she taught me a lot of Arithmancy before … before I came to Hogwarts." She had spoken most of that in a dreamy, airy sort of voice, except for the end, where her voice hitched slightly.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember ever speaking to you before. Who are you?" Harry asked, not unkindly. He was a little bemused by the strange words she'd used, and didn't have any idea what a Blibbering Humdinger might be, but it sounded like she could be of some help. She was in Ravenclaw, after all.

"Oh, I'm Luna Lovegood. Most people call me Loony, though. You're Harry Potter," she replied, pointing at him, then turning to Hermione "and you're Hermione Granger," finally, she turned to Neville "and you're Neville Longbottom."

The rest of the people in the compartment were now wearing looks very similar to the girl's as they started at her in wide eyed surprise.

Hermione found her voice first, and asked "H-how could you possibly know that?"

The girl, Luna, gazed back at her dreamily. "Oh, Ronald, Ginevra, Fred and George talk about you all the time. I'd know you anywhere."

Harry frowned. "You know the Weasleys?" He asked.

"Oh yes. I used to be best friends with Ginevra before we came to Hogwarts, and it was Ronald that gave me the nickname 'Loony'."

Harry and Hermione exchanged significant looks at this and their expressions darkened. It hardly surprised them, even if the girl herself did seem a little… strange.

"I live over the hill from them, in Ottery St. Catchpole," she finished.

"Well… those notes sound really interesting. Would your mother mind if I had a look over them," Hermione asked.

"Oh, I don't think so. Mummy hasn't minded anything for years now." If anyone in the compartment had known her better, they would have detected a note of sadness in Luna's voice.

"Well I'd still like to ask next time I'm visiting the Weasleys. Even if she doesn't mind, it'd be polite," Hermione said.

"You're a Medium?" Luna asked, excitement showing through her hitherto rather vague demeanour.

Hermione looked confused. "A medium what?" She asked.

"No, silly," Luna giggled "I mean; you can talk to the dead? It'd be ever so good to talk to Mummy again."

Hermione looked shocked. "No, absolutely not. I don't believe Divination can do things like that, and it's completely useless to anyone that doesn't have the Sight, which is practically everyone."

Harry leant over and took hold of her hand, hoping to stop his best friend's tirade before it began. Hermione looked at him and then at Luna, and her eyes widened as she realised why Luna had asked.

"Oh, oh my goodness, I am so sorry! I had no idea!"

She quickly hopped over to the other side of the compartment and took Luna's hand.

"I'm so sorry," she said again "I would never have asked… I didn't know. I'll understand completely if you don't want me looking at your mother's notes. I would never pry."

The waif-like girl just looked at Hermione in mild confusion. Well, Harry thought it was a look of mild confusion. Really she just looked slightly more bewildered than she had done previously.

"That's ok," Luna said "she's not using them. And it sounds like looking at them would be useful. I'm sure that's why she made them. I don't mind if you look at them. I'd like to look at your list Harry, it sounds interesting."

"Oh of course, Luna," Harry said quickly, waving his wand to duplicate his list "no problem. Why do you want to see it?" He asked.

"I always like learning new things," she said simply "and seeing things from another point of view always helps me do that."

"That makes sense, I guess. Here." Harry said, handing the list over. "Sorry it's a bit messy. I wrote it last night as the ideas came to me."

Hermione let go of Luna's hand as she put down her magazine, which she'd been holding with the hand Hermione wasn't, and started to look over Harry's list. Hermione returned to her place next to Harry, neither of them noticing that she was now sitting a little closer to him than she had been before, and picked up her already annotated version of Harry's list.

"I'm sure that you can find various spells that cover or affect wide areas in a lot of Defence books, and I would remind you that the bigger the effect of a spell the more power it requires from the caster, but somehow I have a feeling I don't need to for you," Hermione said, giving Harry an impish smile.

Harry blushed slightly at the praise but nodded and squeezed her hand, which he hadn't really realised he was holding again.

"Now, as for what kinds of animals you can conjure, and how they behave, I have absolutely no idea. I'm sure you'll be able to find books on that, too. Actually, I'd be interested in reading it once you're done," she said. She paused for a moment, seeming to struggle with something, and Harry thought he had a pretty good idea of what.

"You can read the rest of the books I end up buying, too," he told her with a smile.

Hermione flung her arms around him. "Thank you, Harry. I didn't want to presume," she said into his ear.

"It's no problem," he replied, shifting them both so that they were sitting a little more comfortably, and putting one arm around her waist. "If you remember, we're going to be working on this over the summer together. I'm sure asking you to read lots and lots of very interesting books will hardly be a hardship."

Hermione just rested her head against his shoulder and snuggled into him slightly.

* * *

Several hours passed quietly, their positions disturbed only briefly by Hermione and Luna getting up to retrieve more parchment in Luna's case and her book on Ancient Runes in Hermione's.

Luna seemed to have been adding her own notes to Harry's list, and she now had several pages. Harry was a little curious as to what else she might have added, but was too comfortable sitting with Hermione to want to even ask.

Hermione had been reading her book, one arm around Harry, and he had been content just to sit and alternately watch the countryside pass by, take in the peaceful atmosphere generated by the people he was sharing his compartment with, provide his free hand to help Hermione turn the pages of her book, and just enjoy the closeness and contact he was sharing with his best friend.

Neville had continued reading his book, occasionally glancing up to look around, or stare out of the window.

They were only disturbed by the lady with the food trolley coming by, when the presence of all that food reminded Harry of his other best friend, Ron.

As Neville and Luna got up to peruse the trolley's wares, Harry leant in to Hermione. "Hey," he began quietly "could you buy me some food? I want to go find Ron. I think I was a little too hard on him before. You know he doesn't handle change well."

Hermione just nodded and put a slip of parchment into her book to mark her page, then got up to follow him out of the compartment. He left the three of them deciding what to buy and made his way down the train, guessing that Ron might have been one of the last to make it aboard and therefore be towards the rear of the line of carriages.

He failed to find him that way, though he did spot Draco and his apes in a compartment one carriage down. He presumed Ron must have found a place with either Dean and Seamus or his brothers and sister, so he turned around and went back up towards the engine.

He eventually found Ron, as he had suspected, with the other two boys they shared a dorm room with, playing exploding snap. He knocked on the door before opening it.

"Hey Ron, could I have a word with you?" He asked.

Ron looked around at Dean and Seamus, nodded, then followed Harry out of the compartment and closed the door.

He looked at Harry in slight confusion for a few moments while Harry tried to figure out what to say, then Harry just gave up and decided to go with the flow.

"I just wanted to say," Harry began, "that I think maybe I was a bit hard on you yesterday and this morning after breakfast. I, uh… I've noticed that you don't … deal with change very well, I guess. And I'm changing. Or I've decided to, really. I hope that we can stay as good friends as we've been since we met three years ago, still hang out and goof off, and talk about Quidditch, and stuff. But I'm also going to focus more seriously on learning, too. I keep getting into danger, or it keeps finding me, each year, and each time I barely manage to get out alive. Usually I have to spend time in the Hospital Wing, often unconscious. I'm pretty sure Madame Pomfrey's sick of me already. I should really get a plaque to reserve my bed with for the next four years."

Harry broke into a wonky grin and Ron chuckled.

"I haven't really thought too much about next year," Harry continued, an idea forming and turning into a plan in his mind as he talked, "but I was thinking about asking McGonagall about changing electives and asking Hermione to tutor me while I stay with her during the summer, see if I can pick up Runes and Arithmancy, and drop Divination. I don't want to take easy grades any more. Just talking to Hermione at breakfast before you came down this morning, and reading her intro to Runes book earlier gave me loads of ideas and questions and… honestly… it's exciting."

Harry broke off for a moment, not sure what else to say. He was a little surprised that Ron didn't appear to be building up to an explosion, but he was just listening carefully.

"I do want to spend time with you this summer at the Burrow, just like I still want to be friends with you. Truly. But when you talk like becoming more like Hermione is a bad thing… it makes it hard. I really like her, Ron. I like her a lot, and I'm as good friends with her as I am with you, mate. If someone said I was becoming more like you, and said it like that was a bad thing, wouldn't you be insulted? Because I'd be. Not just for myself, but on your behalf as well. Being like you isn't a bad thing, because you're not bad. Just like being like Hermione isn't, either. But when you make out like being like her is bad, you make it sound like she's bad, you know? So please, don't do it anymore."

Ron was looking thoughtful. For all that people said that he was thick, he really wasn't. You can't think six moves ahead in chess and be thick, after all. Harry could barely manage to keep the positions and potential movements of every piece in mind at once, for Merlin's sake. Finally, Ron nodded and looked up.

"So… you know the Quidditch World cup is being held in Britain this year?" He said.

Harry blinked a bit at the non sequitur, his brain's gears almost audibly crunching as they shifted to keep up.

"Uuhhh… " he replied, eloquently, "no, I didn't. When is it? Are you going?"

"Yeah, it's in late August. Dad says he can get tickets through work. I was thinking you and Hermione would come with. I reckon the Twins, Ginny, Percy, and maybe even Bill and Charley will be coming."

"Well, Hermione told me her parents were thinking of going to France on holiday again this year," Harry began, but Ron cut him off and cried "But the World Cup! How could she not want to go to that? Who knows when it'll be hosted anywhere near us again? They only happen every four years, you know."

Harry frowned as a thought struck him. Why would the two necessarily be mutually exclusive? Couldn't she go to France with her parents _and_ come back in time to go to the World Cup?

"Why couldn't she do both? Why would she need to miss out on a holiday with her parents to go to the World Cup?"

Ron shut his mouth with a snap, his brow furrowing in consternation.

Harry continued his original thought. "Anyway, Hermione doesn't care much about Quidditch, so I don't know if she would want to go to the World Cup anyway. I can ask her, though," he said.

"But she goes to every game you're in, mate!" Ron said.

"That may not have anything to do with the game itself, Ron," Harry said, almost surprised that he had said it out loud.

He had said it without really thinking, but then as he examined the thought he realised that Hermione might have attended all his matches because of _him_ , and not for any love of the game. He felt an unfamiliar, warm, glowing sensation begin in his chest. It was extremely pleasant.

He also wondered whether Hermione would want to go in the first place. It really was true the only time she ever seemed to have any interest in Quidditch was when he was playing, so he suspected not. He realised with a little wonder that she hadn't deliberately missed a single one of his games. The thought made him smile a little.

Of course, he supposed she may say she would go to the World Cup if he said he wanted to. He'd just have to ask her and see how she felt.

All of this flashed through his mind extremely quickly, and he realised that it had only had the time for that to happen because Ron seemed to be struggling with the concept of someone coming to games despite not enjoying the game.

"I'll ask her, Ron. She'll probably come. I'm not sure when her parents were thinking of going to France, but I can find out and owl you to arrange when we can meet up, ok?"

Ron just nodded.

"Alright, well I'm gonna go back to my compartment. Oh look, the food trolley's caught up with me. See you later, yeah?"

* * *

Making his way back into the carriage with that contained the compartment he'd been in, he saw that Malfoy was just opening the door into the space he'd been sharing with Hermione, Neville, and Luna, presumable for his twice annual attempt at taunting. Speeding up, he deliberately pushed past the blond moron and turned to face him with his hand on the door handle.

"No thank you, we don't want any, good bye." Harry said briskly, and then he slid the door shut quickly while Malfoy gaped at him. Quickly pulling his wand, he locked then silenced the door.

When Harry turned to the compartment he found Hermione had left a collection of his favourite foods for him in his place, and had returned to his list.

"That was inspired, Harry." she said with a grin.

"I think the trick is not to let him wind up and get started" Harry said, returning the grin as he sat down. "If only we could just silence him while we're at school."

He deliberately put the pureblood ponce from his mind and sighed.

"I'm not completely sure I got through to Ron. I apologised and told him I still want to be friends, but that I also want to improve. I also tried to explain why I didn't like what he'd said to us. I think he understands, but he didn't say anything related to that when I was finished. He did invite us to the Quidditch World cup at the end of August, provided Mr Weasley can get the tickets, and I said I'd ask him if you wanted to go. I, uh… I think – I'm not sure, but I think you only go to my games because I'm in them, not because you like the game."

He watched her carefully as he said that, and caught her eye. For a long moment she seemed to think about his implied question, then she nodded minutely.

The pleasant glow from earlier reignited in his chest and he couldn't help but break out into a warm smile. She smiled brightly too, and for a moment Harry thought he caught an emotion on her face that he didn't think he'd ever seen there before. In that moment, Hermione looked very, very beautiful.

They shuffled along the bench towards eachother, and each slipped an arm around the other. Harry savoured the feel of her cuddled into him, and marvelled at the way they fitted together.

"Here, have something to eat, and then I want to go back to your list. I bought all your favourites," she said.

Harry smiled as he rested his head against hers and then began rifling through the pile of food next to him. He selected a pasty then unwrapped it and tucked in.

"We got a little side tracked earlier," she continued "and I forgot to ask you about what you want to do with Runes and Arithmancy." She shuffled around next to her for his list and her longer, annotated copy.

"I also saw that you've made a note of wanting to research general Defence, and I remember that you wanted to send professor Lupin a letter, so have you thought about maybe asking him to tutor you?" Hermione asked.

The thought hadn't occurred to Harry as he really didn't have anywhere to be tutored while at the Dursleys even if they could be convinced to allow it, but as he considered it he realised that getting the professor's expertise would be incredibly invaluable. It'd also be really great to get to spend more time with one of his father's old school friends. One that wasn't on the run, anyway. Perhaps he could be tutored while at Hermione's. He really had no idea who to ask to sort that out, though.

His eyes widened as he realised something else.

"That's great, Hermione, and you know… " he quietened his voice and leaned in to her "I think employing him might be really helpful for him, too. I can't imagine he can find much work very easily, being a werewolf and all, and I know I can't be the only one who noticed he… well he can't exactly have been earning much before last year, either. Thank you for the idea."

Hermione just nodded and gave him a dazzling smile. Obviously she agreed with him.

"But how would we practice anything he taught us?" He asked.

"We?" Hermione squeaked. "I only meant for you to hire him to tutor you."

"Come on, Hermione, I know you enjoyed him teaching us as much as I did. And we're in this together. You always follow me into the stupid, dangerous things I get myself into. How could I take extra Defence lessons and not want to include you?" He asked. "Besides, I can hardly get a magical tutor while I'm at the Dursleys, even if they let me off my chores long enough to study. They hate magic."

Hermione looked like she was caught between wanting to say something and being grateful for a moment, but then smiled and nodded.

"Thank you for including me." She said. "I remember overhearing some pureblood students in Ancient Runes talking about asking their parents for extra tuition over the summer to help them prepare for next year, so I think it might be possible to sort out something with the Ministry. I don't know if that's possible for Muggleborn students, but you're the Boy-Who-Lived. You said Fudge made an exception for you last summer when you inflated your aunt by accident. I'm sure you can make a deal, or something."

Harry grimaced in his distaste at the idea, but duly considered it. It might be good to make use of his fame for a worthwhile purpose for once.

"I still don't know who to ask about it, though. Perhaps professor Lupin will know. If not, I guess… maybe the Department of Education? Maybe Mr Weasley would know. I'll owl him, too."

Harry gave Hermione's shoulder a little squeeze and she leant into him and squeezed him back for a moment.

"I realised we'd stopped part way through my list while I was off looking for Ron, too. I also decided that I want to owl Professor McGonagall and ask her if I can drop Divination and start taking Arithmancy and Ancient Runes starting next year."

Harry pulled away from Hermione to look at her, and when he did he didn't think he'd often seen her looking more excited. He grinned at her.

"I was wondering whether you'd be willing to help me out during the summer by being my tutor? There might be a chance I can join your group instead of the third years, and I reckon if you tutored me it'd be a really, really good chance. You're brilliant – "

He was interrupted by Hermione throwing her arms around his neck and almost squealing "Of course I'll tutor you, Harry! I don't know if you'll be able to join the fourth years, but I'll do my best!" When she pulled back she was beaming.

"As I was saying," Harry continued, smiling warmly at how cute and enthusiastic she looked, "you're brilliant. I reckon with your help I should easily be able to join you. When I was reading your book on Runes earlier I found I understood everything it said, and that's all thanks to spending just breakfast talking the subject over with you. You really are the best."

Hermione blushed prettily at his praise. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before darting forwards to give him a feather-light, fleeting kiss on the cheek before blushing even harder.

"Thank you, Harry. I'll do my best not to let you down, and live up to the faith you have in me."

Harry felt slightly dazed, and despite the brevity of her contact, he could still feel her lips on his cheek very vividly. They had felt wonderfully soft. Harry quickly gave himself a mental shake so as not to just sit there in a daze. He smiled at her.

"You could never let me down, Hermione. You never have yet, and I wouldn't think you had even if I couldn't join you in your Runes and Arithmancy classes. I don't even know if I can change yet, and I really wouldn't mind if I did have to start with the third years."

He pulled her close with the arm that was still around her shoulders and have her a little reassuring squeeze.

"Now then, this pesky list; what didn't we talk about?"

He and Hermione spent the rest of the journey talking back and forth, him explaining his ideas for protective spells and wards, and she trying her best to outline responses and answer his questions based on what she knew, which she admitted was slightly more than just the third year material, given that she had read ahead a little into next year's syllabus.


	6. Chapter 6

As the train neared London's outskirts, Luna – who had finished reading her copy of The Quibbler - seemed to break from the reverie that held her and fixed her silvery-blue gaze on Harry.

"Harry Potter," she said, and then waited until he looked askance at her, "I've always wondered what enchantments you have on your glasses."

Harry frowned in confusion.

"I don't have any enchantments, Luna. Why would you think that I do?" He asked.

"Oh. Well, it's just that everybody who wears glasses has some kind of enchantment on them. Daddy's remind him of things he needs to do, stories he wants to publish, that kind of thing. If you don't have any, why do you wear them?"

"Because… I... need to wear glasses?" Harry was very confused. He had thought that was why any person wore them.

"Oh, you haven't had the spell done? I always assumed you wore glasses because you had some interesting enchantments on them. Like something to find danger, or identify a monster's weaknesses. That seemed the most likely, given the stories Ginny and Ron tell about you, and the rumours I've heard from the other students. I didn't realise it was because you needed them to see. You should go into St. Mungos and get them to fix your eyesight. My daddy cast the spell for me, but between you and me -" here she lowered her voice and leant in closer, looking around furtively, and Harry and Hermione couldn't help but lean in too, "- I don't think he did it quite right. My eyes haven't been quite the same since." She sat back and turned to look out of the window. Now that Harry thought about it, her eyes _were_ somewhat protuberant, and he wasn't sure he'd actually seen her blink since he entered the compartment. To think that it was because of a poorly cast spell instead of being natural was a worry, and he resolved to have his done professionally.

When it came to it, he'd had no idea that it was possible to fix ones eyesight with a spell, but it made sense that it be possible. He did wonder why Madam Pomfrey didn't offer to do it, but he wasn't exactly in a position to ask her just then. He added a note on his list to do so when he got back to Hogwarts in September, and another note to go and see about getting the spell cast during the summer.

The train began to slow as Harry looked over his list. He had amassed quite a few things to look into or do. He considered breaking the list down by some means – perhaps organising it by things he could research from books, things he'd need to talk to someone about, and things he wanted to do?

He was already (hopefully) going to be spending time staying with Hermione this summer, and Luna and Neville had basically agreed to help him with his list, but he realised he hadn't actually explicitly asked them if he could come over. Additionally, he realised that he didn't actually know the addresses of the three other people in the compartment with him. That would make it quite difficult to visit them.

"Hey, guys. Um, I don't actually know where you live, Hermione. Could you tell me so I know what stop to ask for on the Knight Bus? And Neville, Luna, would it be ok for Hermione and I to visit during the summer? I realised yesterday that I actually haven't visited any other magical homes or spent time with any of my other magical friends besides the Weasleys at all during previous summers, and I want to change that."

"Oh, of course, Harry. How could I have forgotten? That would make visiting me easier, wouldn't it?" Hermione asked, putting a hand to her forehead.

Neville looked surprised that Harry would want to visit him, and Luna just looked surprised, though Harry was beginning to wonder whether that wasn't just how she looked anyway.

"O-of course, Harry. If you want to. I mean, if you're sure. I'll have to ask my Gran, but it'd be pretty great to have some company over the summer. I… I'd like that," Neville said.

"I'm sure Daddy would be fine with you visiting, too. And I did say you could look at Mummy's notes. As Neville said, it'd be nice to have some company over the summer."

Harry frowned at this, but noted down their addresses. Hermione lived in Crawley somewhere while Neville said just to ask for 'Green Hill Hall'. He remembered that Luna had said she lived near the Weasleys, but even though Ottery St. Catchpole was a small village that didn't actually help very much. She told him just to ask for 'The Rook', saying they'd know what he meant. He jotted all these down.

Looking up, he noticed something small and grey bobbing in and out of view outside the window. Frowning, he stood up for a better look and saw that it was a tiny owl, carrying a letter that was much too big for it. The owl was so small, in fact, that it kept tumbling over in the air, buffeted this way and that in the train's slipstream. Harry quickly pulled down the window, stretched out his arm, and caught it.

He brought it carefully inside and released it again. The owl dropped its letter onto Harry's seat and began zooming around the compartment, apparently very pleased with itself for accomplishing its task. Hedwig clicked her beak with a sort of dignified disapproval. Crookshanks sat up in his seat, following the owl with his great yellow eyes. Hermione, noticing this, tried to snatch the owl out of harm's way, and managed after two tries.

Neville and Luna looked on, curious, but Harry knew he couldn't risk mentioning who the letter was from with them in the compartment. He couldn't even say it was from 'Snuffles', because it would make no sense. He'd just show it to Hermione when he was done.

The part about the Firebolt coming from Sirius wasn't really much of a surprise, and he was glad Hermione would have some vindication there, but he was sure Ron would have made some unnecessary comment about how it hadn't been jinxed, conveniently forgetting that at the time he'd received the broom, knowing it came from Sirius would have increased suspicion of it.

"Ouch," said Hermione, the tiny owl in her hands having nipped her finger in what it seemed to think was an affectionate way. She gave it a reprimanding look, but continued to stroke it.

His chest seemed to fill with warmth when he found the permission slip in the envelope, but that quickly drained away when he saw that the owl had been meant for Ron, as it meant he'd have to go and find him to pass it over.

He sighed and handed the letter over to Hermione, then took the owl from her and headed out of the compartment. He found Ron a couple of carriages down and had to ask him to step out into the corridor so he could explain. He thought for a moment he'd refuse, but Ron's curiosity got the better of him and he acquiesced.

He stood in stony silence while Harry explained where the bird came from, but looked genuinely pleased and surprised when he was told the owl was now his. When Harry was done, he just gave a perfunctory 'thanks', took the owl, and headed back into the compartment.

They were almost at the station now, so Harry made his way back to the one he had shared with Hermione, Neville and Luna, and everyone packed up their things and got ready to disembark.

In keeping with his earlier realisation that he was, in fact, a wizard, Harry suggested that they all cast lightening charms on their luggage while they were still on the train, and therefore still technically allowed to do magic. Hermione agreed, but Neville looked sheepish.

"Um. Harry," he began, "I keep forgetting that you didn't grow up with magic. Most pureblood and half-blood children get enchanted trunks. Mine's already light," he said, hefting his with one hand.

Harry frowned. It made sense that people that lived in the magical world would know about and have magical trunks, but he remembered helping move Ron and the twins' luggage on several occasions, and their trunks hadn't been lighter.

"But… when I've helped Ron move his… " he began, but trailed off. "Ah," he finished.

It had just occurred to him that maybe the Weasleys, while being a magical family, didn't actually have the means to equip their seven children with magical, enchanted trunks. He felt a little bad for not realising it sooner.

"Well, I know another thing to add to my list," he said. "For both of us, Hermione," he continued, looking at her.

She looked like she was on the verge of saying something, but just then they stopped, and he could see the platform through the window over her shoulder. He cast the spell on his trunk, then on hers, and they all trooped out.

 **.o0o.**

Hermione stood by Harry as he looked around at the various families reuniting, seemingly waiting for him so she could guide him to her parents.

Harry watched as Neville met his extremely strict looking grandmother. He had an idea of what she might look like, given that he'd seen Neville's Snape boggart forced into her clothes and hat during the previous year, but it didn't prepare him for the look she wore that gave the impression she was constantly about to issue a reprimand. It came to him that she might make McGonagall look like a pussycat by comparison, and then he smirked at his pun.

For Luna, on the other hand, he had no ideas as to the appearance of her father, so he watched her wander over towards the back of the platform with interest. She was met by a… colourful looking wizard. He had long silver-blonde hair, like his daughter, but his was slightly wavy and more unruly and he was wearing robes of such vibrancy that they put even Dumbledore's most ostentatious clothes to shame. Harry now realised that he hadn't actually caught a name besides 'Daddy' for him. It would probably be a good idea to learn another one.

He was disturbed from his rumination by Mrs Weasley coming over trailing her family, and he realised with a little plunge in his stomach that this could potentially be quite bad, depending on what Ron had said, so he steeled himself.

"Harry dear, what's this Ron's telling me you don't want to come and stay with us this year?" she asked in a disapproving, brittle sort of voice.

"Oh, Mrs Weasley, it isn't like that," Harry said quickly, "I just… I realised that despite being best friends with Hermione, too, I don't even know her parents' names, and I figure… what kind of a friend does that make me? And I've spent parts of the last two summers with you. I feel like I want to balance things out, you know, so I asked her parents if I could stay with them this year."

Mrs Weasley had obviously been building herself up for him to say something different, and had to stop and think about it. Ginny and the twins seemed to think this was reasonable, judging by the looks on their faces, but Ron was looking mulish. He was obviously choosing to forget all the things he'd said about Hermione and her parents.

Harry deliberated within himself over whether to tell her that Hermione's parents were planning on going away to France on holiday halfway through July, and that as such he would be free to potentially come and stay with them, when the choice was made for him.

"Harry and I would love to come and stay with you at the end of August, Mrs Weasley," said Hermione, "and Ron's told us about the Quidditch World Cup. Could we stay with you for a little while before that?"

"Oh, yes dear, I think that could work well. Well, just owl us over the summer and we can arrange it," said Mrs Weasley, looking happier. Turning, she led her brood away and Harry took the opportunity to look askance at Hermione.

"I guess I was just feeling a little selfish… " she said, looking down and blushing slightly.

Before he had much time to think about that, let alone look around, a very strict voice announced the arrival of Neville's grandmother, who had made her way over.

"Mister Potter. My grandson has requested that you be allowed to visit during the summer. This is the first time Neville has asked to be allowed guests, and so would be delighted to host you and your friend Miss Granger. Please owl ahead that we might make appropriate arrangements," she said, drawing herself up. It looked to Harry as though he were expected to respond in some way, so he quickly cast about for something that sounded suitable.

"Of course, Madame Longbottom. You must have social engagements all the time, and I wouldn't wish to surprise you or make things awkward by dropping by unannounced. I'll make sure to owl you." That seemed to pass muster, for the woman nodded stiffly then turned and stalked off with Neville trailing behind her. He exchanged a look with Hermione.

Never had he been more thankful for his aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon's obsessional coaching of Dudley on social etiquette before the 'grand' dinner parties they would throw in order to impress his uncle's clients.

His musing was interrupted again, this time by the dreamy voice of the little blonde Luna. He wasn't surprised as he turned around.

"Daddy said its fine for you to visit. He just wants to speak to you for a moment," she said.

"Of course. Hello, Mister Lovegood," Harry said, holding out his hand.

"Hello hello, there's no need for formalities with me, Mister Potter. We're not all like old Augusta there," said Mister Lovegood, grabbing Harry's hand and pumping his arm up and down. "I'd be happy if some of my little pumpkin's friends came over this summer! And please, call me Xeno."

He said all of this quite fast, and he had an extremely excitable, effusive sort of voice that Harry felt matched the man perfectly. Now to get his arm back.

"Then please, call me Harry," he said, beginning to pull his arm away, "is it ok if we just turn up? Madame Longbottom requested we send her an owl before we visit her," he continued as he began to apply more effort to extracting his arm, which Xeno was still shaking enthusiastically.

He must have been showing his discomfort at the constant shaking as Luna cut in at that moment.

"Daddy," she said, "I think Harry Potter would like his arm back."

"Oh, of course!" he let Harry go, "I do forget sometimes. Come on by, that's fine, not to worry. We only stand on rugs at home, not ceremony," he said, giving a small guffaw at his own joke.

Despite the vigorous jostling he'd just experienced, Harry couldn't help but smile as well. If only Petunia and Vernon lived by that motto, too. But then again, if they did he'd have been foundering while trying to talk to 'Augusta' – presumably Neville's gran. He had a feeling that first impressions and good manners were important with her.

"Ok, thank you sir – er, Xeno, I mean. Well. See you during the summer. And you, Luna. It was nice to meet you," he said, turning slightly to give the impression he was about to go.

"Of course, of course. Come along then, pumpkin," said Xeno, putting a hand on his daughter's shoulder and herding her off.

Harry and Hermione picked up their trunks under one arm, and their respective pets' carriers under the other, and began to make their way towards the barrier between the platform and the rest of Kings Cross. As they walked, Harry leant in to his friend.

"Am I likely to have my arm shaken off with your parents, or be studied like a cavity?" he asked her quietly.

She laughed softly. "Somewhere in the middle I think, Harry. Don't worry," she said, reassuringly "They already know a lot about you from my letters. They'll love you."

Harry had a feeling that, if her hands weren't full with her belongings, she'd have rubbed his arm. He smiled at her as they passed through the gateway.

"Hermione!" called two voices in unison.

"Mum! Daddy!" Hermione called, dropping her trunk but placing Crookshanks' carrier down rather more carefully, then running to the couple who had called out to her.

While Harry had of course seen her parents last year during the annual Weasley school shopping trip, he hadn't really given them much thought. His friend was currently enveloped in a three way hug, and Harry had to fight down a sharp stab of melancholic jealousy. To take his mind off the unpleasant, unwelcome feeling, he took Hermione's parents in with a careful eye.

They were both dressed in comfortable looking, stylish clothes that Harry wouldn't have though out of place if he'd seen them in a clothing catalogue. Her mother had much darker, bushier hair than her daughter, though it was styled in a way that Harry thought looked very beautiful, and she had much darker skin than Hermione, too. Hermione's father, on the other hand, had much lighter skin and messy, sandy hair. Harry remembered that Hermione had looked very brown when she'd come back from her holiday in France during the summer of the previous year. He realised it made sense; while it hadn't actually occurred to him at all in the last three years, Hermione's skin was probably so light most of the time – like very milky tea – because she spent most of the year inside, in a castle in northern Scotland.

Both Hermione's parents were smiling warmly at their daughter as she spoke excitedly to them about her year while Harry hung back. Harry thought he could see a sort of boyish warmth in her father's face, while her mother had a certain elegance in hers that Harry thought made her look quite striking. It was also very clear to him just how proud of their daughter they were. He could see it shining in their eyes, and there was none of the smug, self-satisfied, gloating look that his aunt and uncle always had when they were looking at his cousin.

Harry had to force the spike of jealousy down again.

"Harry," Hermione's voice broke through Harry's thoughts, "these are my parents, Dan and Emma. Mum, Dad, this is my best friend Harry."

Harry put down his trunk and Hedwig's cage and stepped forward, holding out his hand.

"Mister and Misses Granger, it's a pleasure to meet you properly at last," Harry said, shaking first Dan then Emma's hands.

"Hello, Harry," Mister Granger began, but he was cut off when a bellowing voice sounded, breaking the relative quiet around them, Harry's good mood disappearing with it. The voice was one with which Harry was, unfortunately, extremely familiar.

"BOY!" shouted his uncle, trundling towards Harry and the Grangers, looking absolutely furious. His aunt trotted along behind him and his cousin was waddling to try and keep up. Vernon's face was the classic puce colour that Harry had learned through long experience meant trouble. He fought to keep his breathing and expression under control. It was exceedingly unlikely he'd have to face the brunt of his uncle's displeasure here in public.

"Do you have any idea how long we've been waiting for you?" he snarled, getting right up in Harry's face.

"I'm sorry, uncle. I several of my friends' families wanted to talk to me and it would have been rude to ignore them," Harry said, thinking very quickly while his heart hammered in his chest, "in fact, these are Mister and Misses Granger, the parents of my best friend." He made a gesture with his hand that felt far too fast and big but was probably only barely noticeable to the faintly shocked couple who were still standing beside him.

His uncle's eyes widened for a moment and he straightened up, plastering a sickly grin over his flushed face. He gave the Grangers a very obvious once-over, and while he didn't seem to find anything to object to his smile remained fixed. He had presumably made the connection that if they were the parents of his best friend, they must therefore be the parents of someone magical.

Harry meanwhile was fighting the ringing in his ears. This was going almost exactly as he'd feared. He swallowed, thickly, almost entirely unable to. He was surprised when a hand touched his shoulder and it made his head swim.

"It's ok, Harry," Hermione whispered to him, "we'll see you soon, in a couple of weeks at the worst."

That was all she could manage before his Uncle Vernon wrenched him away.

"Terribly sorry," Vernon almost snarled, not sounding in the least sorry at all, "we really must be going, Mister and Misses Whatever. Come along, boy." He started pulling Harry away.

"See you, Hermione," he said, stumbling slightly.

Hermione watched him being almost dragged away sadly.

 **.o0o.**

"Well… " said Dan Granger, as the three of them buckled themselves in and he started the engine.

Hermione sighed.

"I didn't want to believe you when you told us in your letters, honey," said Emma Granger.

"I know, I didn't want to believe it, either," Hermione said. "Harry actually thought it might be worse."

"Worse? Worse how? That man was incredibly rude. I thought for a moment he'd start saying things about your mother and you."

"I'm not sure, dad. I don't think it was that, though. Harry's said they hate magic, so I think that he was worried they'd say things about me being a witch. Um… Do you think… I'm worried that they… " Hermione trailed off, hugging herself sadly.

"I'm sorry honey, but I think they probably do," said her mother. "Did you see the look on that poor boy's face when his uncle called out to him?"

There was silence in the car for a little while as its occupants thought their separate thoughts.

"Em, do you think… ?" asked Dan, looking over at his wife briefly while they were waiting for a light to change. Emma reached over and took his hand. The understanding that they were having a complete conversation with just these few gestures clicked into place quite suddenly for Hermione, and then the realisation that she and Harry occasionally did the same thing burned like an ember into her heart, giving her a little thrill. She began a small, secret smile without even realising it.

"I think so, Dan." She said, and then turned in her seat to look back. "Hermione, honey, I know we said we wanted to meet Harry before he came to stay with us, and that we said he should come and join us in a couple of weeks, but your father and I now feel that we would like to extend our invitation to begin whenever he feels he wishes to join us."

A brilliant, ebullient smile erupted on Hermione's face, and she felt her heart swell with gratitude towards her parents.

"Thank you so much Mummy, Daddy. I'll let him know as soon as we get home."

The spirits of all three lifted considerably, and the rest of the journey back was filled with her parents' questions about her school year.


End file.
